An Awkward Romance
by celtic7irish
Summary: Remy gets hurt trying to protect Logan. Logan x Remy
1. Chapter 1: Given Names

Logan stormed off of the Blackbird, his temper barely held in check. What the hell had that fool Cyclops been thinking? Was he trying to get them all killed? Really, Wolverine could understand why he had to go, and even, maybe, why Jean had needed to go, but did he have to send in Gambit and Rogue, too? Into what was sure to be awful damn close to a suicide mission?

The mission had seemed simple at first; go into a secret, government-funded facility, gather some intelligence, and retreat. It had long been suspected that the facility they had been ordered to check out was mass producing anti-mutant weaponry. If that had been true, then the X-Men would have probably launched an attack on the plant, destroying the technology and the labs.

But what had been a simple retrieval mission had gone terribly awry when an unrelated explosion had occurred deeper in the lab, throwing the entire area into panic and turmoil, as the workers had fled. Logan had managed to throw Jean into an empty room with a window she could exit from, but he had not been so lucky for himself. Instead, he had been spotted.

The technician who saw him, unfortunately, was intelligent enough to recognize him for what he was, and quick enough to prevent him from getting very far. He had sent half a dozen Sentinels after Logan, who had managed to bolt fast enough to escape out a side door. Logan would not have been able to beat them all by himself, but may have been able to avoid being captured, until Cyclops had decided it would be a good idea to send in some backup.

Jean had stayed close by after escaping, and had come to his rescue immediately, using her telepathy to force back the Sentinels, giving Logan some breathing room. That hadn't lasted long, as Jean had exhausted herself, but Logan was confident that he could finish destroying the last two on his own. That is, until five more sentinels came to join the two still standing, pitting Wolverine against seven of them.

It was about that time that Rogue had come flying to the rescue, Gambit not far behind her, his cards charged and ready to explode. The fight had been brutal after that; the Sentinels had been destroyed, but Gambit had been hurt, badly. The kid was a strong fighter, but one of the Sentinels had gotten lucky and struck him from behind. Once he had been hit, two more had attacked him. Logan had managed to destroy them both before they killed him, but it didn't make much difference. Remy LeBeau was down for the count.

Jean had carefully floated him back to the Blackbird, while the factory smoked behind them. No doubt the fires would be put out soon, either by water sprinklers, or by local firemen. And then the bastards would move their research, knowing that they had been discovered. It would take time to find them again, once they had relocated, and there was no telling what might be created during that time.

On the way home, Scott had bawled Logan out. The older man had tuned him out, opting instead to watch the man lying prone on the floor, with the Beast working over him. Logan found himself immensely grateful that Hank had come with them, but opted to remain on the jet, feeling that while his talents might prove useful, his appearance would be detrimental on a stealth mission of this nature.

Gambit was in no danger of dying at the moment, but he wouldn't be going on missions any time soon, either. He had regained consciousness briefly while on the Blackbird, just long enough to hear the tail end of Scott's lecture to Logan, and to attract the team leader's attention. Scott had started to lay into Gambit, but Logan had put a stop to that real quick, his claws sliding out with a quiet 'snikt', an unsubtle threat as he growled at Cyclops.

The younger man had just glared at him, but had opted to ignore the both of them for the rest of the trip, which was just fine by Logan. He didn't know how the boy did it, but he managed to raise his hackles with almost no effort at all. The only other person who could get a rise out of him so quickly was that bastard Sabertooth.

When they had landed back at Xavier's Institute, Logan had stuck around just long enough to make sure that Gambit left the jet safely, and then he was out of there, storming across the yard and into the mansion. He was going to go to his room, change into a pair of jeans, and leave again. Maybe he'd take Scott's motorcycle, and wreck it on the way, just out of spite.

Nobody dared to stop him on his way to his room, silently moving out of his way. Only Kurt opted to walk beside him, unafraid of Logan's anger. After all, it wasn't directed at him, and while Logan might be a bit curt to people most of the time, he wouldn't lash out in anger at somebody who was innocent in the matter.

"What happened, mein freund?" he asked, his voice soothing. And Logan told him, explaining about the easy entry, the explosion, the Sentinels. When he got to the part where Gambit had been hurt, his throat closed up, and he growled, angry at himself. Kurt just listened to him; the blue-furred teenager had long ago proven himself a true friend to Logan and Rogue, and had never judged any of the X-Men.

"Will Gambit be all right?" Kurt asked, his tone still soft and gentle. Logan nodded, unable to talk about the younger man's near death experience. If Beast hadn't been there, it would have been hard to stabilize the other mutant well enough to get him home safely.

Logan sighed, pausing briefly outside his room. "He'll live, but he'll be out for a while," he said, his tone not exactly reassuring. With that, he stepped into his room, and Kurt didn't follow, wisely choosing to leave Logan alone for a few minutes. He had done his job, and had calmed Logan's temper.

Changing quickly, Logan stepped back out the door, his sense of smell telling him that Kurt had left just seconds before. Deciding to stop by and check in on Remy before he headed out, Logan followed the stairs the whole way down to the basement. When he got to the hospital wing, Logan saw only Hank and Charles.

Professor Xavier looked up at him and smiled. "Welcome back, Logan," he greeted. "Have you come to check up on Remy?" Wolverine just stared at him, one eyebrow raised; of course he was here to check up on Gambit. Why else would he have wandered into this section of the institute?

Charles just nodded at him and left the room, while Hank checked the machines that Gambit was hooked up to. Satisfied that all was well, Hank left as well, briefly setting his hand on Logan's shoulder and squeezing lightly. Logan just smiled up at him, grateful for the support.

Once the door had shut behind the other two mutants, Logan took a deep breath and approached the bed. Standing just out of reach of the prone body, Logan stared down at Gambit, unable to stop the niggle of worry at the other man's condition. He might not be in danger of dying right now, but that didn't mean that he was out of the woods yet. His face was rather battered, and an oxygen mask covered his nose and mouth. Gambit's face was drawn and pale, dark bruises showing under his eyes.

The mask that Gambit normally wore to cover his features was absent, and Logan found himself appreciating, for the first time, just how charming Remy LeBeau really was. Without actually thinking about it, Wolverine found himself brushing away the bangs that had fallen over Gambit's forehead. The man on the bed stirred, and Logan pulled his hand away, forcing himself to remain where he was as Gambit's eyes opened, his gaze unfocused but quickly growing sharper and more aware.

Glancing up at Logan, Gambit's eyes widened slightly, before returning to their normal amused stare. "Ah, mon ami. You have come to see how Gambit is doing, no?" he asked, his voice hoarse, deepening his normally smooth drawl into a rough, lower sound that was nonetheless pleasant. Logan grinned to himself; once a player, always a player, eh?

"I was just comin' to check on ya," he admitted, his voice a low growl. "You didn't look none too pretty on the Blackbird." Gambit chuckled at him tiredly, and then winced as his throat twinged. "Get some sleep, ya damn Cajun," Wolverine mumbled gruffly. "We need ya."

Something vulnerable entered Gambit's eyes then, before being quickly hidden. "Ah, Gambit see now. Da big bad Wolverine misses Gambit." He was smiling as he said it, but it was too late. Wolverine had seen the look in his eyes, and recognized it for what it was. Remy LeBeau was unsure that he belonged here, among the X-Men. After all, he had once been the enemy. Rogue had dumped him in the freezing cold in Antarctica, leaving him there in exile to die or make his own way back. And now, he had been hurt, trying to protect Logan.

Logan debated for only a moment, but then sat on the edge of Gambit's hospital bed. His weight caused the bed to dip slightly, and Gambit slid towards him a little. An arm came out to try and push him away a bit, but Logan reached out and rested a hand lightly on Gambit's waist. The Cajun froze, staring up at him, unsure of himself and trying to hide it.

"You're still so young," Logan murmured, almost to himself. Gambit raised an eyebrow, and Logan smiled. "Compared to me, everybody in here is young, except maybe Chuck." That got a smile out of Gambit, and Logan continued. "We need you to get better – I need you to get better," he corrected himself, "because there's not many people that I trust at our backs, or at our side. You're one of 'em. Rogue and Nightcrawler are the other two."

Gambit blinked, surprised. "That's a mighty small list there," he commented, and Logan shrugged. He'd dealt with the others before, but he wasn't just talking about in battle. Rogue and Nightcrawler were the only two people, other than the professor, that he could actually talk to. In combat, Logan tended to be a bit of a lone wolf, and both Rogue and Nightcrawler understood that, often covering his back and letting him go on ahead of them. He'd trust them to guard his back from anyone, and anything.

"Then Gambit is most honored that Wolverine trusts him," the younger mutant murmured, and Logan sighed, glaring at him. "What is wrong?" he asked. "Did Gambit say something wrong?"

Logan just shook his head. "Do you always do that?" he demanded abruptly. When the other man just stared up at him blankly, his red eyes confused, Logan frowned. "Refer to yourself in third person, and by your codename?"

The confusion cleared up in Gambit's eyes, and he shrugged, wincing slightly as injuries were pulled at. "Gambit always talks like this. Is that bad?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"No, not bad. But you can refer to yourself by your real name, and in the first person. Although I suppose that that's part of your charm, too," he mused.

Gambit grinned at him. "Wolverine finds Gambit charmin'?" he asked, obviously enchanted with the thought. Logan just nodded, finding that he liked it when Gambit smiled, the expression reaching all the way up to his eyes.

"Yeah, I find you charming, ya damn Cajun," he murmured, the phrase almost a term of endearment. "And the name's Logan," he added.

For the third time that day, he saw the surprise flash through Gambit's eyes. He waited patiently while Gambit swallowed and appeared to debate something. "You can call Gambit by his real name, too," he offered tentatively, as if unsure that he had wanted to offer.

"All right, then. Logan and Remy it is," Wolverine decided, his tone final. Standing, he walked towards the door. "Now that the hard part's taken care of, get some rest," he ordered. "I'm going for a ride. See you when I get back." The words were both a promise and a reassurance for the mutant still lying on the bed, and Logan returned the smile he got. Perhaps there was hope yet.


	2. Chapter 2: Garage

Gambit scanned the lawn of Xavier's Institute, searching for one mutant in particular. It was a gorgeous day out, the sun bright and warm, and a gentle breeze blowing, helping keep the temperature from sending people inside where there was air conditioning. On a day like this, there was no doubt that Wolverine would be outside, doing something. He was probably out for another bike ride, or was training on his own somewhere on the grounds.

"Who're ya lookin' for?" Rogue drawled from behind him, and Gambit turned around to smile at the brazen hellion that stood behind him. Not so long ago, they had come to a truce of sorts, and had become something like friends. But Gambit still tread carefully around Rogue, and she couldn't help but be suspicious of him sometimes. It was just how their relationship worked, but neither of them had lost control yet, so the peace had continued uninterrupted.

"Ah, ma cher," Gambit smiled alluringly at Rogue, his natural boyish charm in full effect. "Gambit was just lookin' for de Wolverine. Surely he's runnin' around outside on such a beautiful day?" He kept his tone casual, trying not to reveal just how eager he was to lay eyes on the other man. Rogue was staring at him suspiciously, which meant that he hadn't been as successful as he had hoped. Then again, he did suppose that it was odd that he'd be looking specifically for the other man. "Gambit just wanted to thank Wolverine for savin' his life," he admitted.

Rogue was still suspicious, but she nodded, apparently confident that even if he was lying, Logan could take care of himself. "He's in the garage, repairing some of the vehicles," she informed him. Gambit blinked, surprised, although he supposed he really shouldn't have been. Wolverine was sort of the go-to man for repairs and things of that nature.

Bowing low, Gambit thanked Rogue. "Gambit thanks Rogue for the information," he murmured. Rogue just blushed, then scowled at him before turning and stalking across the lawn, towards Bobby Drake and some of the other students.

Turning in the opposite direction, Gambit made his way back inside, and then used the elevator to access the garage where the X-Men's vehicles were kept. Sure enough, it took only seconds for him to spot Logan, currently straddling a brilliant red motorcycle as he worked on its gauges. Taking full advantage of Wolverine's distracted state, Gambit allowed himself to ogle the other man.

Wolverine was dressed casually in a pair of jeans and a simple white wifebeater. His muscles moved like liquid under his skin, rolling easily as he twisted the wrench. Gambit knew that Wolverine was a very strong man, and the adamantium skeleton made him even more indestructible, but now, for the first time, he was able to fully appreciate what he was seeing.

Logan was relatively short for a man, but he more than made up for it with his sheer presence. Nobody would look at Wolverine and believe him to be harmless, which was probably why he was always the one who had to fight the most enemies. He was packed with muscles in his arm and chest, but while they were prominent, they weren't overbearing. A wider chest led down to a narrow waist, and sturdy hips. His legs were hidden under the jeans and a pair of cowboy boots, and Gambit spent a brief moment of remorse for that.

"You just gonna stand there, bub?" Logan growled, and Gambit lifted his eyes, meeting the other man's gaze. Oops. Apparently the Wolverine hadn't been as oblivious about his presence as he had believed. Judging by the amused expression on his face, he had also realized that Gambit had been checking him out. Slowly, Logan's gaze met his, then traveled down his body very deliberately, before traveling back upwards just as slowly. When their eyes met again, there was heat in Logan's stare.

As if drawn by that gaze, Gambit moved closer to Logan. "Non," he uttered softly. "Remy don't plan to just stand dere at all." He stopped just out of reach of the other man, staring at him. He was afraid that if he took another step, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from jumping the other man. And that might end badly, if he had been reading Logan's gaze incorrectly.

Logan just nodded, then slipped off the bike and moved over to the jeep. Gambit followed, unsure of himself again. With his upper body under the vehicle, tools in his hand, the garage fell into silence again, the only sound the scrape of metal on metal as Logan fixed whatever it was that he was repairing. After a few minutes, his hand slid out from under the jeep. "Gimme the ratchet, would ya?" he asked gruffly, and Gambit blinked, surprised, then turned to the toolkit, quickly selecting an appropriate looking ratchet and placing it into Logan's hand.

Logan grunted, which Gambit interpreted as a 'thank you', and went back to working. Gambit just smiled, shaking his head. Wolverine really wasn't a very talkative person. And yet, he had been the only one who had bothered to visit Gambit in the hospital wing. The only other people he had seen there had been Hank and the professor. If anybody else had come, they hadn't bothered to stick around once he was awake.

But Logan, he had visited every day, sometimes more than once. They hadn't spoken about anything serious after that first visit, but Gambit had just been appreciative of the company. He knew that a lot of the X-men didn't trust him. Only the professor and Jean, who could both read his mind if they chose to, and now Wolverine, had shown faith in him. The trust was very precious to Gambit. A natural-born flirt and a thief, the Cajun hadn't exactly proven himself to be trustworthy, so to see these three people put their faith in him so readily had surprised him, but pleased him at the same time.

He had been so lost in thought that he didn't realize Wolverine had finished tinkering with the jeep. Next thing he knew, Wolverine had slipped out from under the jeep and sat up, putting him within inches of Gambit's surprised eyes. From there, it was almost natural for Remy to bend down and press his lips against Wolverine's.

He would have pulled back, would have apologized and fled, if Wolverine hadn't responded, kissing him back just as strongly. Once Logan responded, Remy was lost, and couldn't have pulled back if the other man had ripped him open with his claws.

When they finally broke for air, Gambit just stared at Logan, waiting. Wolverine smiled at him and said, "It's about time." When Gambit just stared at him blankly, he smiled, the expression rare and precious on his face. "I could scent the attraction in the hospital room, even through all the sanitation," he grimaced. "I could smell it in here, too, as soon as you walked into the garage, Cajun."

Remy sighed, bowing his head. "Remy forgot about Wolverine's keen sense of smell. You kissed back, though," he pointed out rather obviously. "That mean that Wolverine doesn't mind that Remy's attracted to him?"

Logan just chuckled. "If I minded, I would'a let you know, Cajun," he answered. "I don't find many people attractive, and I trust even less, but I suppose I can make an exception for you. But you'd better decide fast, and decide soon. 'Cause once you say okay, you're gonna learn lots about me that you might prefer you hadn't."

Remy cocked his head, staring at Logan in confusion. "Surely Wolverine hasn't done anythin' so bad that Remy would ge' scared, non?" he asked. He knew that Logan was a strong, honorable man, and it was unlikely that he had ever been different, but maybe Remy was wrong about that.

"Nah, nothin' like that," Logan assured him. "But I didn't get my codename just 'cause of my dog tags and these claws," he muttered, raising his hands, under which those wickedly sharp blades rested. It took Remy a few minutes to understand, but then he had to chuckle.

At Logan's sharp glance, he grinned. "Remy's heard rumors that de Wolverine has animalistic attraction. Is he a possessive Wolverine as well?" Logan glared at him, and he chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "Possessiveness can be compromised with," he continued. "'Cause Remy LeBeau is a free spirit and don' want to be held down in once place."

Logan's glare altered to an amused expression, and he retorted, "Since when have you seen me stay in one place for long? I might call this place home and family, but I leave when I've got to. I wouldn't mind having company when I travel, and then I don't have to worry about who's got your back while I'm gone."

Gambit thought about that for a moment, and then nodded. "Sounds like a good plan to Gambit." With that, the deal was sealed, he thought in satisfaction, leaning down for another kiss. Wolverine belonged to Gambit, now.


	3. Chapter 3: First Night

Logan walked into the Institute and headed straight for the kitchen. All he wanted right now was a beer and some sleep, before he had to get up the next day and take another class out for survival training. The teaching position had actually been his idea, brought on when the professor had asked if he'd like to help out the kids by teaching them something practical. The only thing that Logan was good at involved the outside, where nothing mattered except your instincts, and the ability to outwit anything that might be more dangerous than you were.

Today, though, there had been no class. Instead, there had been a mission that had gone terribly wrong. Charles Xavier had been using Cerebro when he had located a mutant with a vast amount of power at his disposal. Unfortunately, the boy had no control over that power, and was quickly destroying himself with it. The X-men had been mobilized immediately, but by the time they had arrived, an hour later, there was nothing left to do but assess the damage and rescue those that they could. The boy had been, quite literally, a ticking time bomb, able to make objects around him explode. Unfortunately, unable to figure out how to target specific objects, he had blown himself up in the process.

Logan shook his head, trying to banish the memories from his mind. He doubted that any of them would forget about today any time soon. Jean had seemed to take it the hardest of all of them, but then again, she had probably been scanning the mind of those around her, and so knew more than the rest of them. Even Logan's sense of smell had told him too much information, like how scared the kid had been, and how the people around him had run, fleeing crazy like terrified deer, leaving him on his own to cope with a power that he didn't understand. There had been the scent of blood, as well, where people had trampled over each other trying to escape the explosions.

Gulping down the cold beer, Logan grabbed another one and headed upstairs. He was going to take a long, hot shower, and then he was going to try and sleep. He just hoped that the nightmares weren't too bad tonight.

Washing himself, Logan's thoughts strayed to Remy, who had been left behind to watch the Institute. There were rumors that Mystique was up to something, and until they figured out what it was and stopped her, they weren't taking any chances with the safety of the children under Xavier's protection.

Logan frowned, just now realizing that Gambit's powers were similar to that boy's, but not as powerful. Or maybe just more controlled, he realized with a sudden insight. After all, those charged cards of his packed a rather powerful punch, and when he charged the staff, it was even stronger. So perhaps Gambit had as much power as the boy they had tried to rescue, but had learned, or been taught, to control it.

Stepping out of the shower, Logan decided that he'd stop by and visit Remy for a few minutes before he went to sleep. No doubt the Cajun was still up, and Logan just wanted to make sure that there had been no problems at the institute while they were gone. The professor had already assured him that nothing had gone wrong, but he wanted a second opinion, and Remy was more honest than the professor, in his own way.

Walking past his room and down three more doors to Remy's, he paused and knocked. When he heard an answering call, he turned the knob and opened the door. "Leavin' your door unlocked, Cajun?" he asked gruffly as he stepped inside. "You invitin' trouble?"

Remy just smiled up at him, ignoring the jab. "Was jus' waitin' for you," he shrugged. "And Gambit sees no need to lock the door when he's awake." Logan just pretended that he hadn't seen the card lying at Remy's side, charged and ready to be thrown. Remy quickly canceled the charge on it and slipped it back into his deck, shifting on his bed so that he only took half of it and patting the space next to him. "Wolverine wants to talk?" he asked quietly, offering.

Logan debated for a moment, but then nodded and sat next to Gambit, making himself comfortable. He knew the Cajun was curious, and probably knew that they hadn't come home with the mutant they had been sent to get, but he wouldn't push for answers. He'd leave it up to Logan to talk or not, as he chose. Taking a quick breath, in which he scented Gambit's curiosity, and the slight arousal the other man felt at his proximity, he allowed himself to relax, and started talking.

Gambit remained quiet, and the silent comfort of another body next to him was enough for Logan to tell the whole story. Around him, Remy's room smelled comfortingly familiar, a combination of Remy's own scent and the cherry wood that made up his furniture. There was also that smell that one gets when lightning strikes nearby, a static electricity sort of scent, that came from those times when Remy charged his cards and let them explode harmlessly in the air.

When he was finished, Gambit sighed. "T'at sounds rough," he commiserated. "The boy needed to have many objects around him to charge, to take the edge off." Logan turned to stare at him, surprised, and Gambit blinked. "Ah, you see when Remy charge cards and throw them in da air?" he asked. When Logan nodded, he shrugged. "Ah do that to get rid of excess power, so Ah don't hur' nobody."

Logan turned his body completely, so that he stared directly at Gambit, not bothering to hide his surprise. "Excess power?" he demanded. "So if you don't have something to charge when you get that much power, you what? Target anything nearby?"

Gambit nodded. "Oui, I could charge anything. More pow'r makes bigger explosions," he explained softly. "Remy don't ever let his power get t'at outta control, though. Too dangerous."

Logan nodded, frowning as he turned to stare straight ahead. Thinking about losing Gambit the same way they had lost that kid earlier made every instinct in his body scream at him to never let the other mutant out of his sight. Unconsciously, he started growling deep in his throat, unaware of Gambit's considering gaze on him. Vaguely, he knew that the other man was still in the room, and could scent his alarm, but he wasn't really paying attention. That is, until he found himself being pushed back on the bed, red eyes glaring at him.

"Wolverine best stop thinkin' like t'at," he warned. "Gambit know how to take care o' himself." And with that final pronouncement, Remy LeBeau kissed him, his lips pressing roughly into Logan's.

And like flipping a switch, Logan went from paranoid to lustful in about two seconds flat. He'd worry about Remy's powers later. For now, though, he had a pissed off, aroused Cajun on top of him, trying to kiss him breathless. The smell and taste of tobacco blended with that spicy taste that belonged only to Remy, and Logan kissed him back, knowing the other mutant could taste the alcohol on his breath.

With a snarl, Logan rolled them over, so that he was on top, and set his hands to exploring the other man's chest. Remy was pale, and so slender that he bordered on too thin, which set off warning bells in Logan's head. He'd have to make sure that the Cajun got three square meals a day, even if he had to feed him by hand.

Wandering hands found their way under his shirt, and Logan murmured in appreciation as they found a nipple and pinched lightly. Moving from Remy's lips, Logan kissed his way across the man's cheek and bit lightly on his ear lobe. When that got an approving moan, the body underneath him jerking upwards, he nipped his way down the strong chin and nibbled lightly on Remy's throat.

Reaching his collar bone, Logan growled and bit down, startling the man below him, who laughed breathlessly. "T'at hurt, mon amie," he murmured. "Is da Wolverine markin' his territory?" Hearing the laughter in the voice, Logan ignored the inquiry and continued to suck on the spot he had marked, leaving behind a vivid bruise.

Lifting his head to stare at the mark in satisfaction, Logan realized that Remy wouldn't be able to do the same. He'd heal from it immediately, anyhow. Turning to stare at the other man, who was in the process of pushing Logan's t-shirt up so he could remove it altogether, he asked gruffly, "You sure 'bout this, Cajun? 'Cause if you say yes, there isn't any goin' back."

Remy paused for a moment, staring up at him, weighing the question. It had been a heavy question and deserved a serious answer, because Logan wasn't just asking about the here and now. He was asking about everything that would come with this sort of commitment.

After several moments of consideration, Logan vibrating with tension above him, Remy gave his answer. "Ah never belonged nowhere," he confessed. "Never belonged ta nobody, either. Ah wan' this. Maybe more than Ah should."

That was all that Logan needed to hear, and he shifted, allowing Remy to pull his shirt off of him and sitting up to work at the ties on his sleep pants. Stripped bare for Remy, he sat back a little, allowing his lover to look at him for the first time. They had kissed before, and touched, but they had not yet made love. Logan didn't want to push Remy into anything, and the Cajun had needed to make sure that Logan wanted him for keeps.

The obvious appreciation and heat in Remy's eyes was gratifying for Logan, and he rumbled deep in his throat, the noise sounding very much like purring. Remy shifted under him at the sound, pressing his arousal against Logan, and the other man reached down, quickly sliding the sleep pants off of his lover. Then it was Logan's turn to stare. The Cajun had been hiding a few secrets, he thought in amusement. A sudden heat pooled low in his stomach, and he wondered what it might feel like to be taken by Gambit, to have the other man make love to him.

Shaking his head, he put those thoughts aside. That would wait for another night. For now, though, he had a feast before him, and he'd be damned if he'd pass it up. Straddling Remy's lap, knees on either side of his hips, Logan used one hand to pin him to the bed, the other hand exploring the body writhing beneath him, lips and tongue and teeth following.

Impatient, but unwilling to hurt Remy without his consent, Logan ground out, "Lube?" A few seconds later, a tube was pushed hurriedly into his hand, the cap already off. Grinning at the other man's eagerness, Logan squeezed some of the gel onto his fingers and sent them seeking. He found what he wanted, and without waiting for an okay, shoved two fingers inside, twisting them.

Below him, Remy writhed, caught by surprise at the sudden intrusion. Judging by the moan, and the way his body relaxed around Logan's fingers immediately, he approved. Wicked fingers slipped down Logan's body and found his own arousal, grabbing firmly and stroking. Logan growled and bit down on the flesh under his skin. In retaliation, Remy squeezed the base of his arousal, stopping the building orgasm.

Logan snarled at being foiled, but Remy just laughed at him, his eyes bright and amused. "Da big bad Wolverine's gotta play nice," he chastised gently. "If he breaks his toys, he don't get ta play wit' dem anymore." The warning was gentle, but it reminded Logan that this was his lover, not just a body.

Growling out a low, "Sorry, Cajun," Logan stretched upwards, gentling the movement of his fingers inside Remy as he kissed the other man, the gesture slow and affectionate. Remy responded, and a few moments later, Gambit began to move, bearing down on his fingers and then arching up.

Logan realized what he wanted and obliged him, lowering his body enough that when Remy arched up, he rubbed against Logan's body. With an approving groan, Remy repeated the action as Logan added a third finger, twisting them slowly and giving his lover time to adjust. He didn't know how long it had been since the other man had had a lover, but it had been several decades for Logan himself. He wasn't one for casual flings, and he didn't trust very many people that would make good lovers anyhow.

When Remy was ready, Logan lifted the other man's knees to either side of his hips and waited. After a moment, Remy opened his eyes and looked at him curiously. "This would probably be easier if you were on all fours," he said, and Remy frowned, then tried to twist away to do as Logan had suggested. Reaching out, Logan held his hips down firmly and waited until those red eyes gazed up at him again. "But I want to see you, so we're gonna have to do it this way."

Remy smiled up at him and spoke. "By all means, mon amie, please do. Ah trust that you'll take good care a' Remy," he grinned, wriggling and pressing down enough that Logan slipped inside. With a groan, Logan stopped thinking and drove hard into the willing body below him, only stopping when he was fully sheathed to give Remy time to adjust.

"It's been a while since Remy had a male lover," the Cajun panted. "Gambit's a lady's man." Logan was caught off guard for a moment, catching the distinction immediately. Bending over the other man and reaching out to capture his face, Logan turned Remy towards him.

"You don't like girls?" he asked. Gambit didn't reply, and Logan frowned. "You flirt with girls but you don't like them. Then why…?" In a sudden flash of insight, Logan realized what he hadn't before. "Girls are safe for you. You don't like them, so flirting with them is okay, because you'll never love them. But it's different with me."

The sudden realization elated Logan, although he couldn't really say why. With a roguish grin, Logan pulled back and thrust into Remy, angling himself so that he rubbed across the Cajun's prostrate. The cry of pleasure he got in return spurred him on, and he reached down as he thrust, taking Remy's arousal in his hand.

With the body writhing and spasming below him, it didn't take long for Logan to topple off the edge, although he made sure to bring Remy before him, stroking fast and firm until the other man cried out and came.

Satiated, Logan and Remy lay there, tangled together. Logan breathed in the welcome scent of lust, sweat, and sex, and found himself relaxing. With a final effort, he slid off of Remy, but couldn't bring himself to leave the bed. A moment later, Remy's head was resting on his chest, the other man's arm wrapped lightly across his waist. They fell asleep like that, and Logan's last thought was, 'It's about damn time.'


	4. Chapter 4: Northern Vacation

Remy held tightly to Logan on the back of the motorcycle as the other man raced down the freeway, heading north. He wouldn't tell Remy where they were going, but had promised that it would be just the two of them, with no neighbors and a fully stocked pantry. Remy had agreed readily, enchanted by the idea of a trip that involved just the two of them, and didn't require mission clothes.

Since that first night, when Logan had been troubled and had needed a way to relieve his stress, they hadn't had alone time. Discouraged by the loss, the X-Men had rallied around the professor, trying to prevent similar tragedies. They knew that they couldn't save everybody, but to have been so close and still unable to save even one person had disheartened them.

Logan had retreated in on himself, growling at anyone who tried to get too close, and hadn't been sleeping well, as far as Remy knew. His students came in battered and bruised, complaining that Wolverine had run them into the ground, but he just retorted that if they were strong enough, survival wouldn't be a problem.

When he wasn't teaching, Wolverine could be found pacing the hallways, the energy practically vibrating off of him. He was like a caged animal, aching so badly to break free, but afraid that if he left, he'd lose something important to him. Even Remy's attempts at flirting hadn't been received with anything resembling enthusiasm.

Eventually, the professor had taken matters into his own hands and sent Logan away on vacation. He had even suggested that perhaps Logan should take a companion along. Remy chuckled to himself, remembering the look on Logan's face when he had passed along the invitation. Surely he realized that Charles Xavier knew a lot more about what went on at the Institute than they gave him credit for? 

A rumble under his chest, and Remy realized that Logan was asking him what was so funny. "Ah, nothin' important," he replied, not bothering to shout over the wind, knowing that Logan could hear him regardless. "Gambit's just thinkin'."

Logan rumbled under him again, and kicked the motorcycle into full throttle. If Remy had thought they were racing before, now they were positively flying. A bit frightened, but far more excited, Remy watched over the driver's shoulder, his eyes bright as pavement and trees raced by in a long blur. He wondered vaguely if there were any cops on this road, but figured that if Logan wasn't worried about it, he wouldn't be, either.

Remy enjoyed the next several hours, alternating between freeways and back roads that meandered all over the place. They stopped occasionally at rest stations to use the facilities and grab a quick bite to eat from Logan's pack, before they were on the road again.

After a while, Remy finally realized that they were heading up to Canada. When he asked Logan why he had chosen Canada, the other man had shrugged. "I don't really know, Cajun," he admitted. "Canada is familiar to me; I'm at home here. It's also quiet up here, peaceful."

Remy had just stared at him, wondering if perhaps Canada was familiar because it was where Logan had come from. Remy only knew that Logan had an altered memory, and a large gap of everything from before he had become Weapon X, before the adamantium had been fused to his skeleton. Still, certain people and places seemed to strike a chord in him, and perhaps Canada was one of them. But he didn't ask, and Logan wasn't the type of man to talk about the personal stuff.

Logan slowed the bike down as they hit a dirt path, and they rumbled quietly through a heavily wooded area. The dirt road was just wide enough for the bike to pass through, and the going was slow, but Remy was able to appreciate the foliage…and the warm body he was pressed up against. The sun shone through gaps in the trees, and their path was speckled with little gems of light and shadow.

Forty-five minutes later, Remy finally got to see where they'd be staying. It was a small cabin, cut from trees and built by hand. The workmanship was almost professional, and the wooden beams all slid together neatly. Even the windows were built evenly into the front of the cabin. "Wolverine built this cabin, oui?" he asked, charmed by the idea. A gruff affirmation made him grin to himself. "Remy is very, very impressed." He wished Logan would turn to face him, so that he could see if the man was blushing.

Instead, Logan waited until Gambit slipped off the bike, and then hopped off himself, rolling it around behind the cabin, where a small shed stood. He secured it inside and closed the door, and then led his guest back to the front door. Remy noted that there wasn't a back door, and wondered at it. Logan hadn't left himself a secondary escape route. "No back door?" he asked, not knowing if Logan would answer his inquiry or not.

"No windows in the back, either," Logan pointed out gruffly. "If anybody's gunnin' for me here, they're gonna come at me from the front, or not at all." That sort of logic made sense, too, Remy admitted to himself. But still, this place seemed fairly isolated, so why would Logan have to worry about anybody attacking him way up here? "Sabretooth would drop by to say 'hi' sometimes," Logan answered his unspoken question. "He's the only other person who can find me here."

Remy frowned. "That's not a good thing, mon amie," he rebuked. "What happens if Sabretooth wins?" He winced after he said it, aware of how bad it sounded. It wasn't that he didn't believe in Logan's fighting skills and survival instincts, but all it would take was a lucky shot, and Sabretooth could tear out his heart.

Logan turned back and grinned at him, baring his teeth. "Sabretooth doesn't visit to fight," he growled. Gambit stared at him, surprised and confused. What else could Sabretooth possibly want up here, alone with Wolverine? His mind shied away from the more obvious thought that came with it, but the flash in Logan's eyes confirmed it.

"You and Sabretooth are lovers?" he exclaimed, startled and angry. He couldn't believe it. With the way those two fought every time they came near each other?

Logan shook his head. "We were," he corrected. "Years ago. We haven't fucked each other since well before you and I became lovers. Before I met Chuck, actually." He stared steadily at Remy as he reassured him, and Gambit saw no lies in his dark eyes. "Even then, it was still a fight. Sabretooth and I have never really gotten along, but at the time, it was better than tearing each other to pieces. Now, though, I'd much rather tear him to shreds," he growled, baring his teeth.

Gambit nodded, somehow disappointed; he had suspected that Wolverine must have had lovers before him, but until now, he had never wondered who those might have been. To know that Victor Creed had been one of them made him angry, and even a little bit jealous. He was aware that Logan was very careful around him, afraid that he might hurt him. Surely, he didn't worry about his own strength when he was with Sabretooth?

"If I asked, would Wolverine tell Gambit who the other lovers were?" he asked quietly, curious. He both wanted to know and didn't, but he wondered if Logan would even be willing to share.

Logan shook his head. "Naw, but I'll tell you, if you ask," he smiled. "But be absolutely sure that you wanna know," he warned. "It's not like I've had very many lovers, 'cause there haven't been that many I could trust, but you might be better off not knowin'."

Remy nodded his understanding, and filed that away for later as they stepped into the cabin. Looking around, he noted that it was small, but clean. There was a wood stove sitting in the corner of the room, and the heavy paneling would ensure that the cabin itself stayed an appropriate temperature, depending on the season.

There were no doors in the cabin, just doorways, and from where Remy was standing, he could see a small, but workable kitchen, a small sitting room with a few pieces of worn but comfortable-looking furniture, and a hallway that probably led to the bedrooms and a restroom, if this place even had one.

Logan gave him a brief tour. "Kitchen, living room, bathroom, two bedrooms down that way. Mine's the one on the left side of the hallway," he indicated. "You can share mine, or you can have your own on the right. Firewood is in the backyard, on the far side of the shed, should you feel the need for it in this weather." Remy smiled listening to him; Logan was sweet-talking him again.

It had taken Remy a while to learn how Logan flirted. He was a very blunt man, who didn't do well at being subtle, and so flirting wasn't really something that he did. But still, he had extended an invitation for Remy to share his room…and his bed. There was no way that the sensual, flirtatious Gambit wasn't going to take him up on it.

Just being here in Canada at his cabin seemed to have done wonders for Wolverine's temper and anxiety. His body was relaxed as he showed Remy around, and his eyes glittered with a sense of happiness that the other man wasn't used to seeing. Whatever Canada might mean for Logan, to Remy it was a place of wonder, a place where his lover could find peace.

"You know," Remy murmured, smiling as they walked down the hallway. "Remy thinks he could get used ta this place." Reaching out an arm, he wrapped it around Logan and bent down, kissing the man, who responded eagerly, his hands already working at the Cajun's clothing.

Pulling back with a laugh, Remy said, "Dis place is definitely good for you. Wolverine is all relaxed and playful again." Grinning down at the shorter man, Remy teased, "Dinner's not for anot'er couple of hours. What would you like to do until then?"

Wolverine just growled and reached up, bringing him back down for another forceful kiss. "What d'ya think I wanna do, ya damn Cajun?" he growled, and Remy chuckled, curling his arms around the other man and holding him firmly, his ruby eyes dancing in amusement.

"Where did you say t'e bedroom was?" he purred, and Logan walked backwards, pulling them quickly towards his room. Remy just smiled, content to follow his lead. A part him hoped that they'd never have to leave. But, he knew, they'd always have a place to retreat to, here in this Northern country, where they could be just Logan and Remy.


	5. Chapter 5: Tag

Logan could smell him as soon as he turned the corner, but he didn't turn around, waiting to see what the sneaky mutant was up to. Remy was naturally a quiet stalker, but this time, he seemed to be trying to deliberately sneak up on Logan. He had even made sure that Logan was upwind of him, so that he couldn't catch his scent. Pity that the Cajun didn't know that Logan's animal senses were even keener than a real animal's.

Hands slipped over his eyes from behind, and a teasing, seductive voice murmured, "Guess who, mon amie." Logan grinned; Gambit wanted to play. This was a side to Remy that most of the employees at Xavier's Institute for the Gifted never got to see; the light, playful side that just wanted to run wild, with nothing to hold them back. Everybody saw the charmer, the flirt, the seductive, sensual man. Some of them even saw beyond the pretty exterior to the strong, powerful mutant underneath. But as far as Logan knew, only he got to see this more childish side of the red-eyed Cajun.

"Hmm…I smell Cajun," he growled back, but didn't make any attempts to break away. Remy wanted to play, and a part of Logan was more than willing to go along with him. Somehow, Remy was able to bring out a younger, more playful side of Logan as well. It was odd, and almost uncomfortable, like he was reverting to a younger self without any memories to go with it.

A chuckle in his ear distracted him, and he took in a whiff of Gambit's cologne. It had a faint hint of spiciness to it, but for the most part, it was a very subtle scent, blending in well with Remy's natural scent. Logan found it soothing and familiar, and was already growing accustomed to recognizing Gambit's presence, even in his sleep.

"I see t'at Wolverine isn't jus' a pretty face," Gambit murmured, his lips pressed lightly against the back of Logan's neck. Logan smiled and turned around to face Remy, who moved his hands down to his waist.

"I don't know 'bout you, bub, but I wouldn't call this face pretty," he growled, amusement lacing his words. "Or else you've got a warped sense of pretty." Remy just smiled brightly at him and winked, and Logan found himself laughing loudly.

The sound was almost surprising, but in all honestly, Logan had been smiling and laughing more than ever since he and Remy had gotten together. Something about the other mutant just let Logan lighten up a little bit. Perhaps it was Gambit's playful, flirtatious nature. Or maybe it was just that Logan trusted him implicitly, and so was able to let down his guard. Whatever it was, Logan wasn't sure he wanted to give it up.

"Now that you've caught me, what do you want?" Logan asked, baring his teeth in a false snarl at the other man. Remy's eyes widened and he danced away from Logan, who blinked in surprise. He hadn't meant to startle the other man. Taking a step forward, Logan went to apologize, when Remy forestalled him.

"How 'bout the Wolverine catches Gambit now?" he asked, his voice seductive. With those parting words, Gambit whirled around and took off, leaving a stunned Logan behind him. With an excited growl of acceptance, Logan tore off after the other man, his animalistic instincts giving him an edge in locating the other mutant…until he exited the garage in a motorcycle, tearing down the long lane and out the gate.

Logan stood there a moment, shock written all over his face, before he snarled and dashed towards the garage. If the Cajun thought that he'd escape him on wheels, he was sadly mistaken. The other man would leave his scent behind on the wind for a few minutes, and if Logan was quick enough, he could catch up to the other mutant. And then there would be a price to pay for bolting.

Throwing open the garage door, Logan nearly howled when he took in the vehicles there. Every last one had lost at least one tire, sometimes two. Remy had planned this chase, and made sure that Logan wouldn't be fast enough to catch his scent, the clever bastard. When Logan caught up to the Cajun – and he would, eventually – he was going to show him just why it was a bad idea to challenge Wolverine.

Well, since he had to put on a wheel anyhow, he quickly made a choice – Scott's motorcycle. Remy had taken the bike that they had ridden up to Canada on, but it was hardly the fastest bike out there. When Scott had showed up with this beauty, Logan had just stood there, completely dumbfounded that Cyclops – Mr. Uptight, by-the-book, team leader – had bought such a thing.

And it was fast! Logan had taken it once, more as a snub to Scott than anything, and had nearly been thrown from the motorcycle. He had quickly adjusted to the speed, though, and had taken the bike on several thrill rides after that. Scott knew, of course, but it was part of their uneasy truce – as long as he didn't crash the bike, he'd be allowed to take it out now and again.

In exchange, Logan bickered less with him in public. Oh, they still didn't see eye-to-eye on most things, but Logan would wait to corner the other man in private before stating his reservations. It kept the peace, and saved Charles a bunch of headaches.

The wheel back on, Logan revved the engine and shot out of the garage, the liquid snarl of the bike nearly drowned out by the howling of the wind as it whipped past him. Logan hadn't bothered with a helmet, needing to be able to scent the air. Besides, it's not like a crash would kill him.

Racing down the drive and out on the road, Logan turned towards town. Remy would go where there were streets he could get lost down, which meant turning left. There was nothing the other way but a single road, and Logan would catch up to him in no time.

Ten minutes later, he was in the middle of Westchester, New York. He growled; there were a lot of scents, both new and old, and it was hard to pinpoint Remy. Instead, he slowed down enough to be able to scent the wind, and sought the smell of rubber, metal, and polish. He was in charge of maintenance for the vehicles at the Institute, and that included washing and polishing on a regular basis. Unfortunately for Remy, the motorcycle he was riding had just been polished yesterday.

Logan wrinkled his nose as the variety of scents assaulted him, but kept his focus, seeking only a single target. Hmm…Remy had chosen his path well. The scent ran down an alley that was infested with smells, and Logan snarled in revulsion. It looked like he wasn't going to be able to catch an accurate scent after all.

A small sound caught Logan's attention, and he turned his head to listen more closely. Ah, there we were; the vibration of an engine that was picking up speed. Logan grinned to himself and kicked his bike into full throttle, roaring down the street. See what the locals made of that!

Taking a sharp turn, Logan raced his way along the two-lane street, eyes and ears alert for any cops that might be hanging about. Not that they'd be able to catch him, but if they saw the license plate, it would cause trouble for the Institute, and Logan wasn't willing to bring the local police down on their heads.

It took him another thirty minutes to reach the outskirts of town, and then he was on the highway, racing along the straight path. He couldn't hear Remy's bike over the wind roaring in his ears, but he knew what he was looking for now. Sure enough, fifteen miles down the road, Logan caught sight of his prey.

Grinning victoriously to himself, Logan swerved around two cars and slid between a camper and the car in front of it, putting himself in the right lane. Dodging traffic, Logan pulled in right behind Remy, who had caught sight of him in his side mirror.

With a laugh and a rude gesture, Remy darted over into the left lane, racing past the cars he had been following behind just moments ago. Logan kept pace with him easily, knowing that he could outrun the Cajun at a moment's notice. He couldn't keep the grin from his face; it had been a long time since he had enjoyed himself quite this much. The song of the chase thrilled through his veins, and he knew that when he finally caught the Cajun, there was no way they'd be leaving the area any time soon.

Switching lanes suddenly, Remy took the immediate exit, and Logan snarled, following close behind him, ignoring the sudden honking and screech of tires behind him. He didn't hear a crash, which meant no accident, so he wasn't going to worry about it.

Reaching the end of the road, Gambit veered right, Wolverine following him, allowing his motorcycle to slow down. They were headed for a familiar town, and Logan grinned; looked like the Cajun was thinking along the same thoughts as he was.

However, instead of stopping at one of the hotels or inns in town, Remy kept driving. Logan, curious now, followed him, wondering where he was headed. At a stoplight, he pulled just behind and to the left of Remy, who turned his head and smiled at him, his eyes full of heat and promise. Logan found himself hardening in response, and snarled back at Gambit, who just chuckled.

The light turned green, and Remy took off again, Logan following him as closely as possible. Just outside of town, there was a stretch of forest, and that's where Remy was headed. Driving the bike off the road and into the woods, he charged a card and threw it at Logan, who had to swerve the bike and duck to avoid getting hit. The bike toppled over, and both Logan and the bike skidded to a stop at the base of a tree.

Logan winced; he'd have to be sure and give the bike a paint job before Scott had a chance to see it. But it had done as Remy had intended; it had given the other man enough time to start running, fleeing into the forest. Once again, Logan was stunned. It was rather obvious what Remy was after, but here? Apparently, Gambit had a bit of a wild side, too. Or else he was catering to Logan's tastes, but Wolverine doubted that he knew about those escapades.

With a growl of approval, Logan ditched the bikes and wandered into the woods, in no hurry. Remy was leading him, and when they got close, the chase would be on. For now, though, Logan would take his time, following his lover's scent, which was all over the trees and ground now.

Fifteen minutes in, Remy stopped moving altogether. Logan grinned victoriously to himself; looked like the other man had finally lost his patience for this game. Not bothering to increase his pace, Logan made his way towards Gambit. Lifting his head, he caught sight of him and waved casually. Remy frowned, but instead of talking, he charged a handful of cards and flung them out at Logan, so that they fanned out in a wider attack.

Logan ducked as the cards exploded harmlessly over his head, barely charged at all. With that, the chase was on, and Wolverine bunched his legs under him, pushing off and running flat out for his prey, who turned and fled.

The rush of the chase calling him forward, Logan put everything he had into the chase, leaping over boulders and fallen trees as if they weren't even there. Gambit danced up ahead of him, his body lithe and graceful as he leapt and darted, changing direction every so often and laughing when Logan skidded trying to follow the sudden movements.

Eventually, though, Logan's persistence paid off, as Remy stumbled, and he leapt, sending them both tumbling down a small hill, to come to a stop against a moss-covered log. Before they had even stopped, hands were tearing at clothes. "Good t'ing I have more clothes back at the cycle," Remy murmured, even as his short was torn from his body. His own hands were gentler as they slipped Logan's shirt over his head, so that flesh met bare flesh.

Shuddering, Logan turned them over, so that he was on the bottom, his back pressed against the soft earth below them. Remy paused, looking up at him, but Logan wasn't interested in talking, and was instead fumbling with the other man's pants. He was glad that when he wasn't in mission gear, Gambit preferred soft, simple clothing that didn't have to be peeled off of him.

Accepting that Wolverine wasn't going to answer his unspoken question yet, Gambit instead turned his own attentions to helping Logan disrobe himself. Logan lifted his hips to allow his lover to slide them off, taking his shoes with them. He then finished divesting himself of the remainders of his clothing, and settled back down, crawling up Logan's body, leaving kisses and nips as he moved, his hands stroking firmly along Logan's legs and hips.

But Logan didn't want slow or gentle, not after a chase like that. If Gambit couldn't figure out what he wanted, then he'd have to show him. With a snarl, Logan knocked Gambit off of him and pounced on the other man, whose eyes were wide open in surprise at the sudden movement.

Not bothering with any further preparation, and knowing that Remy was definitely ready, Logan shifted himself up, and then pressed down, seating himself on Remy in a single long slide, gritting his teeth and growling deep in his throat. When he was fully seated, he lifted back up and thrust downwards, not bothering to wait for his body to adjust.

The movements were harsh and wild, and as soon as Remy realized what he wanted, he grabbed Logan's hips, not worrying about bruising him, and thrust up as hard as he could. His nails dug into Wolverine's hips, and the shorter man leaned down and bit into his shoulder, making him cry out and thrust faster.

In a sudden movement, Remy disengaged, and Logan nearly howled in disappointment, but Remy didn't keep him waiting. Grabbing his hips, Gambit flipped him over and threw him over the log that they had been resting against. As soon as Logan was facing away from him, bent over the log, he thrust back in, and this time, Logan did howl.

The bark was rough and chafed across his skin, the moss that had grown in patches on the trunk making slick, softer places, rubbing across his stomach and groin, and Logan growled at the pleasure the dual sensations invoked.

Remy placed his hand on the back of Logan's neck and pushed down, forcing the other man to bow completely over the log, no longer supporting his upper body. Gambit moved his hand to Logan's back and pinned him down, the other hand at his waist as he thrust, adjusting his angle until Wolverine howled, throwing his head back. Only Remy's hand at his back kept him from arching up off of the log.

Logan writhed, pinned between the warm body that impaled him and the cool bark that grated across his skin, leaving small scratches that healed as soon as they were made. The minor pain just added another layer of pleasure to the sensations coursing through Logan, and he came, shuddering against the log as he spilled himself onto the ground.

Sated now, Logan allowed his body to go limp, shifting against the log with every thrust of Remy into him. Mustering some amount of energy, Logan tightened his passageway, and Remy groaned, thrusting faster, close now. Moments later, he spilled himself inside Logan, and collapsed over top of him. The two men lay there, covered in sweat, panting, Remy's weight pressing Logan further into the trunk, not that he minded in the least.

"Now _t'at _is tag, mon amie," Gambit chuckled tiredly, and Wolverine grinned in agreement, closing his eyes. They'd have to move soon, but for now, they could rest, tired and utterly sated. Tag, indeed.


	6. Chapter 6: Hunting

"Where is he?" Logan snarled, his claws swiping against Sabertooth's abdomen as the other mutant grabbed at him. Ducking the larger mutant's arms, Wolverine went to stab upwards, but Sabertooth leapt backwards, picking up a fallen log and throwing it straight at him. Logan wasn't quite quick enough, and the log caught him in the chest, sending him skidding backwards.

Twisting, he managed to avoid getting pinned between the log and another tree, but he had to leap immediately to keep from being struck by his opponent, who had followed immediately behind the log. With a roar, Logan brought his arms up and caught the next strike, on his forearms, but it jolted him.

Snarling, he pulled back, and they circled each other, looking for an opening. "Where is he?" Logan demanded again, a low growl tricking from between clenched teeth. "If he's been hurt at all, I'm taking it out of your hide," he threatened, and Sabertooth just laughed at him, throwing his head back as he roared. Logan seized the opportunity, and darted forward, but Sabertooth saw him coming and grabbed his wrist, picking him up and throwing him into a tree hard enough to crack the trunk.

Rolling away from the tree, Wolverine rose to his knees as Sabertooth leapt, trying to take him down, claws extended and ready to tear into his flesh. Wolverine moved with all the speed he possessed, striking upwards with his right hand and out with his left, catching Sabertooth on both sets of claws. As the other mutant bellowed in rage, Wolverine twisted around and pinned him to the tree, removing one set of claws only to pin them in the other shoulder.

Putting his face right in front of Sabertooth, Logan growled, "Last chance, bub. Where is Gambit?" Sabertooth grinned down at him, but didn't answer. Narrowing his eyes, Logan twisted his hands, letting his blades slide through flesh and muscle as they tore into his enemy. Sabertooth roared, and Logan just glared up at him, waiting.

"Your pretty new lover is safe, for now," the blond mutant ground out viciously. "No reason to take him down right away and miss out on the chance to hurt you in the meantime," he grinned cruelly. Logan snarled, shoving his blades in deeper and listening to Sabertooth's pained grunt with satisfaction.

Unfortunately, he had put his body too close, and Sabertooth lodged his claws into his sides, grating along adamantium shielded ribs. Logan snarled, but refused to pull back and give ground, even as blood ran down his sides, dropping to the forest floor. "What the hell do you want?" he growled, furious.

Sabertooth smirked down at him triumphantly. "I see you're finally catchin' on there, Logan. What I want is simple. I want to play with you, my way, like we used to." Logan stared up at him in disbelief; Sabertooth wanted to fuck him? And he had kidnapped Gambit for that sole purpose? Honestly, Logan wouldn't put it past him to do something like that, but the question was, had Sabertooth worked with anybody else? Just because Sabertooth wanted to play with him, that didn't mean that any others had no plans of their own for him and Gambit.

"And why should I believe you? I don't believe you were workin' alone on this one," he growled, and Sabertooth bared his teeth, not denying Logan's accusation. With a quiet 'snickt', Logan retracted his claws. In return, Sabertooth removed his claws from Logan's sides, and the two mutants regarded each other warily for several long moments.

"Okay, here's the deal, bub. I want assurance that the Cajun is safe. Which means that I wanna see him, and I wanna watch him walk away from wherever you've got him. After he's left safely, I'll submit to a game with you," he offered. Sabertooth just laughed, shaking his head.

"I'm not stupid, Logan," he chastised the smaller mutant. "If we set him free first, you'll fight and escape with him. And then we won't have either of you." Wolverine scowled; that actually hadn't been his plan, but he had no doubt that he would have tried to run if the opportunity presented itself. He really didn't fancy playing with Sabertooth at all. They were long past that point, and all they really cared about anymore was tearing each other up whenever they got within each other's territorial range.

Closing his eyes, Logan made his one concession. "You can chain me firs'. Unchain Gambit, chain me, then let him walk. But if you try anythin' funny, I'll kill you. Understood?" he growled, angry now. Why couldn't people just leave him and Remy alone, damnit?

Sabertooth considered him for a few moments, his eyes cold and calculating, and Logan forced himself to wait patiently, when all he wanted to do was to beat the shit out of Sabertooth until he told him where to find Remy. But they both knew that although Logan's adamantium claws and smaller body gave him an advantage in speed and close range attacks, Sabertooth's brute strength easily made him a match, and would probably win him the fight in the long run.

If it came down to a winner-take-all, Sabertooth would have both Logan and Remy. And that was something that Logan could not abide. So he forced himself to wait for Sabertooth's decision. He was already certain what he'd say, but the blond mutant was enjoying make him wait for it.

"Very well, then," Sabertooth allowed finally, gesturing for Logan to turn around. "But if you try anythin' funny, your pretty partner is a dead man. Got it?" Logan grunted an affirmation, moving ahead of Sabertooth, not daring to try and fight, not now. If he was lucky, he'd be allowed to walk there entirely under his own power, but he rather doubted it.

Sure enough, when they came to a clearing, Logan felt Sabertooth move behind him. Instead of ducking, though, he leaned into the blow, allowing it to send him flying, where he crumpled at the base of a tree, barely conscious. His body would heal the damage it had sustained in no time, but his head would probably be fuzzy for a while.

He felt himself being lifted, the movement causing a dizzy sensation to spin in his head. Swallowing hard, he allowed himself to hang from Sabertooth's shoulder as the other man took off running, his movements swift and far more agile that one would normally think the large man capable of. Then again, he did have the characteristics of his namesake, which included a feral, catlike grace that held him in good stead across Logan's more canine style.

As they traveled, Wolverine used the time to think. Oh, not about how to escape – he had given his word, after all. Him in exchange for Remy. But he wondered why Sabertooth wanted him now, of all times. Surely, if he had wanted to resume having sex with Logan, he would have approached him much sooner. Or perhaps, Wolverine thought angrily, it was just because the blond brute now had something to hold over his head.

Logan hadn't had a lover in so long. In fact, if he recalled correctly, Sabertooth had been his last. After that had broken off – violently, of course – he hadn't really been interested in anybody else. Until the Cajun had come along, sexy and sensual and utterly lethal when he wanted to be. Something in Remy LeBeau called to Logan, as a siren sang to sailors, drawing him ever closer, no matter how many rocks he crashed into on his way. And now, Gambit would get to see just how far Wolverine had fallen, that he would submit to his worst enemy to save him.

"Almost there," Sabertooth chuckled, and Logan closed his eyes in disgust at the glee in the other man's tone, colored by arousal. He could scent the other man's excitement at the promise of being able to do as he pleased with Logan, and Wolverine shuddered. For the first time in a long while, he felt guilt and shame flood through him. He felt like he was betraying Remy, even though at the time, he saw no other way to ensure his safety. He still didn't see any other options, unless Gambit came up with one.

Sabertooth dropped him to the ground, and lashed out, catching him by the throat and slowly choking him. Logan gasped for air, but didn't bring out his claws. It was obvious that not only was the blond enjoying this, but that he was doing it so that Logan didn't see where he was being taken. Logan was positive, though, that they were very close. After all, he never remained unconscious for long.

Slowly, his body shut down, unable to grab the oxygen it needed to survive, and Logan slid into unconsciousness. He was unaware of Sabertooth picking him up and throwing him back over his shoulder, pausing only momentarily to make sure that he started breathing again before setting off at a lope, eager to get Wolverine into the base before he woke back up.

Fifteen minutes later, they were inside, and Logan's eyes were open, his sharp gaze taking in his surroundings. He snarled when he heard the rattle of chains, and heard a disappointed growl. Obviously, Sabertooth had been aiming to get him in chains before he woke up.

"Sorry 'bout your luck, bub," Logan snarled, and the other man just grinned, moving aside so that he was no longer blocking the shorter man's view. Logan's eyes widened in surprise and sorrow as he saw Remy, hanging from another set of chains, blood running down his naked torso from a gash in his head, his wrists bloody and torn. Shit, he was in no shape to escape from here, unless they let him go and didn't pursue him.

Sabertooth allowed him to approach Remy, who opened his eyes when Logan touched his face gently, turning his head to try and get a better look at the injury. He breathed out a sigh of relief – the wound was shallow, but it had bled a lot, as was the case with most head injuries. Gambit should be able to run like that.

"Logan?" Gambit asked muzzily, red eyes slowly sharpening as he regained consciousness. Logan just smiled at him sadly and reached up, using his claws to slice through the bonds. A growl behind him warned him that Sabertooth wasn't very pleased, but he really didn't care right now. He'd keep his word, and they both knew it.

"Hey, Cajun," he murmured, shrugging out of his shirt. It was warm in here, although it had been rather chilly outside. "I've come to get you outta here. I need you to run, and don't look back, okay?" He was already lifting the other man to his feet and leading him towards the door that would lead outside, hoping that he'd be distracted enough to not realize that Wolverine planned to stay behind.

Remy stared at him, bewildered. "Outta here? Wolverine came to rescue Gambit," he said, and his voice held wonder. Logan nearly apologized, but instead, he shoved Remy out the door that Sabertooth stood by, and backed up as the other man slammed and bolted the door. "Logan? Logan! What're you doing? Logan better not be thinkin' of stayin' there wit'out Remy!" Gambit called through the door, and Logan winced, turning away.

Beside him, Sabertooth growled, even as he grabbed him and led him from the room. Several turns later, they entered another room, and Logan stared around himself indifferently, trying to distance himself from the sort of 'games' that Sabertooth liked to play. He didn't resist as the blond mutant led him to the center of the room, where a single set of chains – adamantium, no doubt – hung from the ceiling, a drain placed directly below them in a small divot in the floor.

Sabertooth had his hands chained above his head in no time, and the chains were pulled high enough that his feet didn't touch the ground. Wolverine had no leverage, and no way to get his hands turned enough to even attempt to slice through the chains that bound him.

Bowing his head, Logan slumped as Sabertooth finished stripping them both, closing his eyes. The other man's arousal was sharp and pungent in the air, and Logan's thoughts traveled to his lover, outside the building's doors. Hopefully, he'd give up and go get help, although Logan was certain that Sabertooth would be finished with him long before the others arrived.

With only a small hiss and the sharp scent of fresh leather, Logan was rocked forward as the three-tailed whip struck his back, between his shoulder blades. They healed quickly, but before they were fully healed, another strike landed across them, and Logan grunted at the sharp pain. Good, maybe Sabertooth would satisfy himself with trying to hurt Logan until help arrived.

All Logan cared about at this point was that the Cajun was safe, and that he survived long enough to dish out some serious payback when the other's came to rescue him. Claws raked his sides, and Logan snarled, his leg kicking back as the other man laughed at him, sending the whip cracking across his exposed backside.

Again and again, the whip came down, so that Logan could feel the blood slowly making its way down his back. The sharp coppery scent of the blood only served to fuel Sabertooth's lust, and the man soon threw the whip to the side, reaching out and grabbing Logan's hips, too impatient to bother hurting him any more with the tools spread throughout the room.

Logan closed his eyes, bracing and trying to relax for the pain that he knew was coming, when all of a sudden, an explosion rocked the entire room, blowing the door cleanly off its hinges and scattering it into hundreds of fragments. Caught by surprise, Sabertooth wasn't quite fast enough to dodge the charged spear of metal that was run through his side, and he howled.

Gambit stood there, holding the other end of the spear and charging it, ready to blow it up at any time, as soon as they were far enough away from Logan. He looked half dead on his feet, and Logan realized that he was using his powers to charge everything that he touched. And he was wearing himself out quickly.

Sabertooth grabbed the staff and removed it from his side, his other hand catching Remy in the side of the head and sending him flying into Logan, who swung freely with the impact. "Damnit, Cajun!" Logan snarled. "How 'bout, instead of tryin' to take on Sabertooth, you blow up these chains?"

Remy obeyed immediately, reaching up and charging the chains several links above Logan's wrists. Seconds later, Logan was on his feet, grabbing Remy as the other man slumped, exhausted. The chains still hanging from the cuffs on his wrists made a faint clinking sound as he threw Gambit over his shoulder and bolted, running for the nearest exit.

A laughing cry sounded behind him, followed by a thud as Sabertooth pursued them, obviously enjoying the prospect of a chase. Logan growled and skidded, dashing to his left, then taking the second right. His only hope was to use his smaller frame to his advantage, and make full use of the extra speed he was given. Sabertooth's larger frame meant that he wasted precious seconds trying to turn abruptly, as his own power kept him moving.

Remy mumbled behind him, "Gambit can run, mon amie. No need t' waste your en'rgy." His words were slurred, and Logan ignored him, taking another sharp turn and dashing into a room with wide metal doors. Slamming the steel contraption behind him, Logan dropped Remy as gently as possible and used his claws to slice through a thick metal pipe, which he then lodged in the door. It wouldn't take Sabertooth long to break down the door, but he only needed a few seconds.

Moving quickly now, wincing as Sabertooth slammed into the doors, Logan started slicing away at the far wall. Luckily, it was an outside wall, and was only made of steel, so his adamantium claws sliced through it neatly. Once he had a large enough hole, he moved back into the room and grabbed Remy again, throwing the Cajun over his shoulder as the doors shook on their hinges, the steel pipe splintering. Another two or three strikes, and they'd have an enraged Sabertooth on their hands.

Logan bolted out the door and headed straight for the woods. There was no gate to slow him down, and once he hit the forest, he felt Charles' concerned presence in his mind. "Yeah, Chuck, we're here. Me 'n the Cajun. How 'bout you come pick us up, yeah?" The Professor assured him that they were already on their way, as they had managed to contact Gambit earlier and get a general location, and were now preparing for an all-out raid.

Logan just shook his head and warned them back. After all, it was only Sabertooth, and as soon as he got the BlackBird, they were getting out of dodge. He heard the soft rumble of the engine as the stealth plane landed in the next clearing, and Logan picked up his pace, although he heard no pursuit behind him. It seemed like Sabertooth had given up…for the moment.

Stalking on to the plane, ignoring everybody's exclamations at his naked body, Logan just growled and dropped Remy into a seat. He grabbed the blanket that somebody – probably Kurt – handed to him and wrapped himself in it before sitting next to his lover.

Gambit opened his eyes a crack and smiled sweetly up at him. "Wolverine is okay, Gambit is okay, ev'rythin' is all righ'," he said, and Logan smiled down at him, reaching up to pet his hair lightly as he stared out the window at the forest below, ignoring the hulking government building where he been taken.

"Yeah, Cajun. Ev'rything's okay," he murmured back, and continued to stare out the window the whole way home, with Gambit asleep at his side.


	7. Chapter 7: Memories

Remy LeBeau lay in bed, propped up on his elbow and staring down at the tense face of a sleeping Wolverine. He sighed softly to himself, his other hand coming up automatically to comb lightly through the unruly locks. Logan turned into his touch with a small murmur, but didn't wake.

Remy smiled; he was a familiar enough presence by now that Logan recognized him even asleep. Continuing his petting, his crimson eyes drank in the man below him, so relieved that he was safe, recovered, and back home with Remy. Gambit had been stupid, and Logan had gotten hurt because of it.

Closing his eyes, Gambit swallowed, remembering things that he'd rather forget. It had all started a week ago, when he had felt the urge to return to the cabin up in the Canadian wilderness with Logan. The X-Men had been busy, stopping Magneto from yet another attempt at a takeover, and continuing to save any mutants that they could. So far, there hadn't been any new additions to their Institute, but it was only a matter of time.

While thinking about the cabin wistfully, and debating whether or not to mention it to Logan, Remy had recalled a brief conversation that he would have preferred to forget. _Sabertooth would drop by to say 'hi' sometimes. Sabertooth doesn't visit to fight._ _Sabertooth and I have never really gotten along, but at the time, it was better than tearing each other to pieces. Now, though, I'd much rather tear him to shreds._

Words meant to reassure him, but they had eaten at Remy, though he hadn't realized it until that moment. He could actually see the two men as lovers, though no doubt it would always be a struggle for dominance between the two. He often wondered which of them overpowered the other – now he had his answer, though he wished he didn't. Logan was light and quick, but Sabertooth had brute force, and once he got hold of you, he wouldn't let go.

So Remy had done something foolish; he had gone to confront Sabertooth. The blond mutant had been hanging around the Brotherhood, apparently just killing time until Magneto regrouped from his last defeat and started something new up. As long as Sabertooth got to fight, he didn't care what the bigger picture was, or why he was fighting. He just enjoyed the rush of battle, and the thrill of conquest. His bloodlust and instincts ruled him; survival was secondary.

Gambit, confident in his ability to outmaneuver the brutish animal, had gone to the Brotherhood alone to take on Sabertooth. Eventually, the Brotherhood itself had left for school, leaving only Sabertooth behind, or so Gambit had thought. He never even bothered to look in the trees, where a lone raven perched, staring at him coldly.

And so, not bothering to knock, Remy LeBeau had charged in, ready with a full hand of cards to throw at Sabertooth, his staff in his right hand. The fight had been fast, furious, and brutal. Gambit barely managed to avoid the tall mutant's claws on several occasions, and there were burn marks everywhere from cards that had exploded against walls and furniture.

Gambit realized his mistake when Sabertooth slammed the couch into him, at the same time that Mystique delivered a spinning kick from behind, knocking him into the wall. Not only had he underestimated Sabertooth, but he had also made the mistake of assuming that the other man was alone, and had attacked him in a closed in space, where he couldn't dodge the furniture that was thrown at him.

As he slumped to the ground, barely conscious, Sabertooth looming over him, he cursed himself six times a fool. Chuckling, the blond mutant lifted him up by his hair, and Gambit winced, having lost his staff when he was thrown across the room. Leaning in close, Sabertooth growled, then paused, sniffing at him.

"Oh? You smell of Wolverine," he grinned cruelly, his voice coming out as a deep growl. "And pretty recently, too. And here I thought the runt would never have another after I was through with him." Remy couldn't control the snarl that escaped his clenched teeth, and Sabertooth stared at him consideringly. Suddenly, he threw his head back and laughed, practically howling out his amusement.

"So that's it! You found out, and wanted to hear it for yourself, did you?" he asked. "I'll do even better. I'll even show you how it used to be between me and the runt." With that, he wrapped his large hand around Gambit's face and slammed the other man into the wall, leaving a dent and a bloodstain as he knocked the other man unconscious.

When Remy woke up, he was already in chains, his tattered shirt removed entirely, blood still flowing sluggishly from the injury to the back of his head. Sabertooth had nicked his temples with his claws, too, if the feeling of the slowly congealing blood was any indication. His skin pulled tight as he tried to take in his surroundings, and he winced as the barely formed scab was reopened, sending more blood trickling down his face.

Sabertooth was there, standing by a door that led further into whatever building they were in. He grinned viciously at him; now that I've got you, it's time to go get the runt," he taunted. Remy jerked in his chains, trying to get his hands turned around enough to charge them and blow them apart. Sabertooth just laughed at his futile efforts; he had deliberately placed Gambit's wrists in those restraints tightly enough that he couldn't twist in them at all. The only thing he'd accomplish would be to rub his wrists raw.

Satisfied that Gambit was going anywhere, and that he appeared sufficiently battered to entice Wolverine to submit, Sabertooth left, leaving Gambit with silence and his own thoughts. Remy closed his eyes, slumping in his bonds; his lover was going to get hurt because he had rushed out like a fool and challenged Sabertooth alone. If he had been thinking clearly, he would have realized that it was a foolish idea in the first place.

Power crackled along his hands as he tried once more to reach the chains, but it was futile; no matter how he moved, or how bloody his wrists got from twisting and rubbing, he couldn't grab the chains enough to blow them up. His head was still pounding, a steady pulse right behind his eyes, and he winced, his head falling and eyes closed, sagging in his bonds.

That was how Logan found him, several hours later, having already submitted to Sabertooth to rescue his lover. The touch of Logan's warm hands on his face, turning his head to get a better look at the wound, was wonderful, and Remy nearly cried. "Logan?" he murmured, aware that his voice sounded woozy, his head still throbbing.

Claws sliding out, Logan cut his chains free, and he slumped into his arms. Logan quickly lowered him to the ground and shrugged out of his shirt, getting Remy into it as he spoke. "Hey, Cajun," he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble., "I've come to get you outta here. I need you to run, and don't look back, okay?" Remy was lifted to his feet, stumbling with Logan to the door that led to the outside and freedom.

"Outta here? Wolverine came to rescue Gambit," he spoke, and his voice was awestruck. He had known that Logan loved him, and would come to rescue him, but he had expected it to be with his teammates. He hadn't expected Logan to come by himself to rescue him, and the feelings the gesture invoked flowed warmly through him.

Next thing he knew, he was outside, and the door had been slammed behind him, with Logan on the inside. Turning, he lifted his head and banged weakly on the door. "Logan? Logan! What're you doing? Logan better not be thinkin' of stayin' there wit'out Remy!" Gambit called through the door, but there was no response, and Remy stood there, bewildered and hurt. Why would Wolverine stay inside with Sabertooth?

The hurt didn't last for long, though. Remy was clever, and it didn't take him long to realize that Sabertooth had made a bargain with Logan. And whatever Wolverine had promised him, it involved him staying behind. And Wolverine would never break a promise, regardless of the consequences. Remy's eyes narrowed, anger coming swiftly and chasing back the fatigue that had plagued him.

Pressing his hands flat against the door, Remy quickly charged it and retreated, allowing the door to blow up, giving him an opening. Walking back inside, Gambit located his staff and grabbed it before walking out of the room. It was a pity that he didn't have his lock-picking tools with him, but he'd make do with what he had at his disposal.

Kicking open the next door, Gambit's crimson gaze took in the hallway, trying to determine which way Sabertooth and Wolverine had gone. Probably deeper into the building, he thought, turning right. Another door stood in his way at the end of the hall, and with another burst of power, he blew it off its hinges, scattering it into hundreds of pieces.

From there, it was only a matter of following the hallways. Most halls led to dead ends, and there were no sounds coming from behind any of them. Then, Remy turned left, and he heard the sharp crack of a whip slicing into flesh, and he picked up his pace, moving as quickly as his hazy balance allowed. He had used up a lot of power blowing up those doors, and he wasn't done yet.

Hoping that Sabertooth was sufficiently distracted to not notice his presence outside the door, Gambit reached out with one hand and charged the door, pouring as much power into it as he could abide. His other hand charged the staff he held, and tensing his legs, he released the charge on the door, sending it exploding inwards in hundreds of pieces.

He didn't have time to worry whether or not he had gotten Logan as he followed the shrapnel in, thrusting his staff with a cold efficiency, straight through Sabertooth's side. The blond mutant howled and reached out. Gambit tried to back up, but lost his balance, stumbling, and that was all it took; Sabertooth's open hand caught him on the side of the head and sent him flying, straight into Logan.

Logan grunted with the impact, but snarled at him, "Dammit, Cajun! How 'bout, instead of tryin' to take on Sabertooth, you blow up these chains?" Remy was too tired and hurt to argue, and he reached up, sending a small charge into the chains and breaking them, sending them both to the ground.

Tossing him over his shoulder, Wolverine took off, running from Sabertooth. Barking laughter and a crash indicated that Sabertooth was giving chase, and that he was enjoying himself. Remy was furious at himself; because he was so foolish and weak, he was slowing Logan down, and keeping him from escaping.

Struggling to piece his words together, Remy slurred, "Gambit can run, mon amie. No need t' waste your en'rgy." Logan ignored him, taking a sharp turn and skidding a little before bolting down the new hallway. Behind them, Sabertooth snarled as he slid past the entrance to the hallway and lost a split second.

Logan kept the pattern up, racing down hallways in no particular pattern. Remy just trusted that he knew the way out, because he could hardly remember which way he had come, and as he was currently thrown over Wolverine's shoulder, he couldn't see anything, regardless.

Sooner than expected, considering how long it had taken him to find Logan and Sabertooth, the other mutant was setting him down and running a steel pipe through the door, hoping it would hold it. Moving over, he started slicing away at the far wall while Remy watched, both of them hoping that Sabertooth didn't manage to break down the door before they could escape.

As the door started to crack, Logan came back for Remy, picking him up and slinging him back over his shoulder. Once outside, Logan just kept running, his feet sure and swift as they leapt over fallen logs and dashed around fronds and trees. Remy was reminded, vaguely, of their wonderful game of tag, which was followed by a passionate rendezvous in the forest.

He heard the rumble of the BlackBird, and was relieved when they finally ran inside of it. Gambit held back a chuckle as he realized that while he was enjoying the view of Logan's naked backside, the same couldn't be said for the people who were on the plane. He just hoped none of the kiddies were there, or Logan might be in trouble later.

Setting him gently into a seat, Logan grabbed a blanket from Nightcrawler and wrapped it around himself, covering in his body. As soon as he was seated, Remy curled up into him, feeling safe and relaxed. Finally. Smiling up at Logan, he mumbled, "Wolverine is okay, Gambit is okay, ev'rythin' is all righ'."

Logan turned to look down at him, and his face gentled for a moment before he turned to stare out the window, even as his hand reached up to pet Remy's hair. "Yeah, Cajun. Ev'rything's okay." With that final reassurance, Remy allowed himself to sleep, curled up against his lover's side.

Now, two nights later, Remy was wide awake and staring down at his lover, drinking in the sight of him as if he'd never see him again. It had finally sunk in just how close he had come to losing the other man, and more than that, just how much Wolverine meant to him. He would give anything, do anything, to keep the man lying next to him safe, and he realized, with a keen sense of wonder, that the sentiment went both ways. After all, Logan had given himself up to Sabertooth to save him after he had rushed in like a fool and gotten caught.

"You're thinkin' too loud," Logan mumbled up at him sleepily, peering at him through half-open eyes. Remy smiled down at him, allowing his eyes to show all the love and affection he felt for the other man. Leaning down, he kissed him gently, chastely.

"Remy's sorry, mon amie. Ah just wanted to see your pretty face," he smiled, and Logan mock-growled at him, reaching up and tugging him down for another kiss, this one a little less chaste and a little more heated. Remy moaned into the kiss. Ah, he had missed this.

Rolling them over, Logan leaned over Remy, gazing down at him. His eyes flicked to the bandage wrapped around Remy's hair, and he sighed. Gambit frowned; he didn't want such a stupid little thing to stop what was happening. Logan caught his look and smiled. "Don' worry, darlin'. I've missed you too, ya know," he leered. "But you're still in no shape to be roughin' it. So just lay back and let me take care o' ya, 'k?"

Without bothering to wait for an answer, Logan's hands were roaming across his naked flesh, and Remy shuddered as they found and pinched a nipple gently. He reached up a hand to reciprocate the touches, but Logan caught his hand and pinned it to the bed for a moment, giving him a hard look as he released his hold. Remy understood the silent message and subsided, just lying there and giving his lover free reign.

Logan rewarded him with a bruising kiss that left him gasping for air, breathing in the musky scent of his lover. With a devious grin, Logan squirmed down his body and swallowed him without warning. Only his hands on Remy's hips kept the crimson-eyed mutant from choking him as he bucked in surprise and pleasure.

"Ah!" he cried out in surprise, the wet heat and slide of lips and tongue doing the most wonderful things to him. "If Ah didn't know better, Ah'd think you were tryin' ta kill me," he moaned, writhing.

He felt the lips wrapped around him smiled, and something slid into Logan's mouth alongside himself. Remy blinked as he realized what it was, and then he moaned, long and low, as Logan slid two spit-slicked fingers into him, the movement made easy with familiarity.

Those fingers searched, and quickly found what they were looking for. Remy nearly screamed as his pleasure spot was rubbed across firmly. Keeping a constant stroking motion, Logan increased the sucking on his arousal, and it was only moments later that Gambit came, spilling himself down his lover's throat.

When he was finally spent, Logan lifted himself up and moved to the head of the bed, leaning down to kiss Remy so that he could taste himself on Logan's tongue. Settling down next to him, Logan murmured, "How 'bout gettin' some shut-eye now, Cajun?" He closed his eyes, apparently intending to follow his own advice.

Remy noticed that Logan was still hard, but when he went to reach down, the other man caught his wrist. "Don' worry 'bout it," he murmured. "It'll take care o' itself. Tonigh' was more about me an' you. I'm not goin' anywhere you don't want me to, Cajun," he yawned, and Remy's eyes widened as he stared in shock at the other man. He had always known that Logan was smarter than he pretended to be, but for the first time, he realized just how perceptive he was.

Feeling suddenly vulnerable, he curled into Logan's arms. "Promise?" he whispered, not even sure that he had spoken, or that Logan had heard him.

The arms wrapped around him tightened, and Logan murmured in his ear, "Always." Remy smiled. After all, Wolverine never broke a promise.

With the waters calm and peaceful once more, Logan and Remy drifted off, settled comfortably in each other's embrace.


	8. Chapter 8: Danger Room

"Watch out, cher!" Gambit called, sending a handful of cards to intercept the opponent sneaking up behind Rogue. The girl managed to dodge, but she caught a glancing blow that sent her spinning – straight into Nightcrawler. The two of them toppled over the platform's edge, and only Kurt's quick teleportation kept them from hitting the ground – hard.

A growl behind him, followed by the screech of adamantium slicing through steel, and Gambit winced, rolling out of the way of a struggling Wolverine. Another attack from behind, and Gambit made a split-second decision, leaping on top of the enemy and charging its body. He leapt, just as it exploded, sending him flying. Twisting, he got his feet back under him and whirled around, going to Wolverine's aid.

Rogue and Nightcrawler were holding their own, aided by Iceman and Shadowcat, who subsequently froze and short-circuited the system. With a scowl, Gambit knocked away his opponent, and looked around. Ah, there! With a cry of triumph, Gambit charged a single card and sent it flying, straight into the heart.

A howled, "No!" startled him, but his aim was true, and the card hit its target dead center. Wolverine hollered, "Hit the ground!" Leaping, he bore Gambit to the floor just as another explosion rocked the chamber. Unfortunately, Gambit's aim had been too accurate, and the first explosion set off a series of smaller explosions, all along the parts of the machine.

Gambit crouched there, trapped under Wolverine's weight as the world self-destructed around them. The heat scorched his face, and the pressure of the explosions rendered him temporarily deafened. Closing his eyes, Gambit curled in on himself, trying to shield the most vital parts of his body, even as his mind reacted with horror. Nonononono!

Above him, Wolverine's body jerked as fire and shrapnel struck him, the sharp coppery scent of blood nearly overwhelming. Still, he didn't move, his claws dug into the floor on either side of Gambit, his body pressing down so that the other mutant couldn't get the leverage to move him, no matter how hard he tried.

"Wolverine! Wolverine! Logan! Move, please, Logan! Move!" Gambit called, nearly panicking. A low growl answered him, and fierce brown eyes, gone nearly black, pierced into him, holding him in place. In that face, Gambit saw a fierce protectiveness, a love so strong that it would lead Logan to give up his life for the other man, if it ever came down to that. Gambit nearly cried.

Moments later, the explosions stopped, flames licking at various bits of equipment as the sprinkler system came on, soaking everything. Gambit stared up at the chrome ceiling of the Danger Room and cursed himself a hundred times a fool. This was designed to be a place to _practice_ battle skills, not to actually fight a battle. If they had all been taken out, the Danger Room session would have stopped automatically.

"Logan, please be okay," he murmured, his hand reaching up to comb through the other man's hair, shuddering as his glove came away covered in blood. A low moan in his ear, and Logan was struggling to sit up, even as Jean and Scott rushed into the room, taking in the devastation. Already his wounds were healing, and Logan glared at Scott when the man opened his mouth, no doubt to yell at Remy.

"Don't even think about it, bub. He couldn't have known that the core was connected to all of the arms," he growled, and Scott shut his mouth, turning instead to check on the others, who were rising to their feet, their wounds mostly superficial. Logan and Remy had been caught in the main blast, while the others were on the outskirts and had mostly just been tossed to the ground.

Logan reached out and touched Remy's face, and the other man winced, surprised at the pain. When Logan pulled his hand back, there was blood on his fingers. "Just a small head wound," Logan murmured, the relief in his voice obvious. Remy blinked, only now aware that blood was dripping into his eye. "It'll bleed a lot, but it ain't nothin' dangerous," Logan said, smiling at him.

Again, Remy was caught off guard by the soft expression on Logan's face, and the affection in his eyes. Wolverine had never shown a lot of emotions, not when other people were around. But lately, that had been changing. He no longer hid his expressions, or his affection, from the others when he was around Remy. Even his survival courses had become more fun, and none of the kids were complaining about the change in demeanor.

"Ah, it's less den Ah deserve," Remy mumbled, reaching up to gingerly press against the wound on his temple. Logan drew his arm away and pressed a torn piece of cloth against it. Once Remy's hand replaced it, keeping pressure on his injury, Logan stood, groaning as he got to his feet. He walked around Remy slowly, occasionally leaning in to sniff just above his skin, and Remy realized that Wolverine was checking for other injuries.

"Remy is fine, mon ami," he reassured the other man. "Jus' this one injury. Ah…is Logan okay? Even wit' healin' abilities, Ah didn't think they were tha' fast." Logan held out his arms, and Remy watched as the myriad of cuts there closed…slowly.

"My body automatically heals the most dangerous damage first," Logan said gruffly. "Now it's just the superficial stuff. It'll be healed in no time." Remy swallowed. So Wolverine had taken more damage than just some cuts and burns. He had suspected as much, but to actually hear it confirmed sent the guilt pouring down over top of him.

Logan growled, reaching down and taking Gambit's chin. "Don't you dare blame yourself for this!" he snarled. "I'm fine, you're fine, the kids are fine, too. You. Didn't. Know." The words were spoken slowly and clearly, Logan's eyes fierce as he tried to convince his lover that his injuries weren't his fault. It's not like they wouldn't heal immediately anyhow.

Remy just lowered his eyes, nodding in acquiescence, and Logan sighed. It was obvious that Gambit didn't believe that, and he didn't know how to convince him. But that was something to work on later. For now, they had to get outta the chamber. Seeing the devastation his attack had caused would not help Remy in the slightest.

Keeping his wince of pain to himself, Logan reached down and hauled Remy up, turning and forcing him to start walking from the room. The kids were already leaving, all of them walking under their own power. Bobby turned to flash Gambit a smile. "That was totally wicked!" he enthused. "Wish I had known that the main body would destroy the rest of it. I would've attacked it when I had the chance!"

Gambit stared at him in disbelief, while Logan just rolled his eyes at the other boy's antics, although he was grateful, too. Bobby had been part of the X-men for a few years now, and even he hadn't known about the connection between the arms and the core body. Most of the mock enemies they fought had a core, but rather than exploding completely, leaving behind no real evidence, destroying the core would just cause the machine to fail and stop moving.

This one was intentionally more dangerous, because it forced the X-men to think of ways to destroy the enemy without getting themselves killed in the process. It was a valuable lesson to learn, and Wolverine had mistakenly thought that they were ready for it. He wouldn't be making that mistake a second time, he vowed as they walked out of the Danger Room and into the cooler air of the hallway.

Beast was waiting for them, and Remy looked at him steadily for a moment before saying, "Gambit is fine, mon ami." Hank looked at him skeptically, but a small head shake from Logan had him backing down, accepting Remy's word…for now. He turned towards the others, but other than being in utter disarray, nobody was harmed. Logan had taken the brunt of the explosion, and his regenerative abilities had nearly healed him. He wouldn't need medical attention, either. Well, he wouldn't want medical attention, at least, Remy acknowledged as the other man tripped, sending them both stumbling.

Remy caught himself and held Logan up while the other man straightened, ignoring Beast's concerned gaze. "It's nothin'," he muttered, and even though Remy didn't believe him in the slightest, he let it slide. Logan had just saved his life, and he knew his own body the best; if he said he'd be fine in a few minutes, he would be.

Logan stumbled again, but Remy just steadied him, and they made their way upstairs. Once in Logan's room, Remy released him to lean against the wall while he stripped him of his blood-stained clothing, wincing as he realized just how tattered Logan's mission clothes actually were. Deliberately keeping his voice light, Gambit teased Logan, "I think Wolverine jus' likes to be in the center o' the action, mon amour."

Logan grinned up at him, though the expression was a little strained. "Of course. The action's where all the fun is," he growled, and Remy just shook his head, smiling. If Logan was making wisecracks, then he'd be just fine. Even as he finished stripping Logan down, the smallest abrasions were healing, leaving nothing but smooth skin in their wake.

Remy turned away, heading for Logan's closet so as to keep the other man from seeing the lust that had filled his eyes. Of course, he had forgotten about the man's keens sense of smell, and a low growl was all the warning he had before he was grabbed from behind and wrestled to the bed. He landed on the soft mattress, and Logan landed on top of him, knocking the wind out of him.

"I'm not hurt," Logan told him, pinning his wrists to either side of him with a strong, unbreakable grip. "I'm done healin', and now we've finally got some alone time. You're injured, though," he growled, "again." Remy heard the self-disgust in his tone and winced, shaking his head.

"Dis is not your fault, mon amour. Remy was de one t'at hit the wrong place," he insisted. "Besides, the headache is goin' away now, and like you said, we've got some time alone. I don' wan' to waste the opportunity presented," he murmured, allowing his eyes to fill with heat, his mouth curving up into a sexy come-hither smile as he arched his body upwards, not fighting Logan's grip on his wrists, but letting him know that he was ready to play.

Logan stared down at him for several long moments, looking for something. Remy didn't know what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he didn't find it, and he smiled back at Remy before leaning down to kiss him, gently. "So it's not my fault for not realizin' and warnin' ya ahead of time, and it's not your fault for attacking the core, either, bub. As long as you remember that."

Remy nodded up at him, accepting the logic. If he forbade Logan to feel guilty, then he couldn't very well protest when Logan forbade him the same. As a reward, Logan kissed him again, but harder, and Remy opened his mouth with a groan, allowing Logan's tongue to slip inside, the wet friction a mere foreshadowing of the activities they'd soon be engaging in.

His wrists still pinned to the bed, Remy squirmed, not trying to fight the hold, but instead trying to make Logan _move_. The other man just chuckled at him, and refused to budge. The only concession he made was to nip lightly at Remy's mouth, teasing him. Gambit narrowed his eyes, then spread his legs, forcing Logan to settle between them.

Wrapping lean legs around Logan's sturdy waste, Remy pulled, dragging Logan against him. Logan was already undressed, but Remy was still fully clothed. Growling, Logan pressed Remy's wrists firmly into the mattress for a moment, before releasing them. Following the silent order, Remy left them were they were as Logan's hands reached up and fumbled at his clothing, just tearing the shirt.

"Ah, Wolverine keeps destroyin' my clothin'. Soon Remy won't have anythin' left," he chuckled, amused. Logan ignored his teasing, stretching upwards and running his tongue over the drying blood that had flowed down Remy's face from his temple. Remy moaned at the warm, soothing wetness that laved over his temple cheek, cleaning him off.

Remy blinked, a new thought occurring to him. "Logan likes the taste of blood?" he asked softly. Logan froze above him, his eyes surprised, before his expression became guarded. Remy smiled up at him, reassuring. "It doesn't bother Remy, mon amour. In fact, it jus' makes things hotter, no?" he asked.

Logan stared down at him, and Remy met his gaze, his eyes open and honest. A quiet 'snickt' and a single claw emerged. Remy's eyes watched that slender blade, fascinated as it lowered to his chest. A light tingle as Logan drew it down his body, the blade leaving a small pink welt in its wake, but not drawing any blood.

Remy's stomach muscles jumped as Logan continued to trail the claw down his body, stopping when he reached the waistband of his leather pans. They held their breath for a moment, before Logan moved to the side and tore the adamantium blade through the leather, making a soft 'swoosh' sound as it drew downwards.

Another cut down along his other hip, and a few more down past his knees, and Remy's pants slid off of him in ribbons of leather. The claw moved back up, trailing from his ankle to his thigh, and then jumping back up to his waist. Tired of the tickling sensation, wanting a little bit more, Remy shifted quickly, forcing Remy's claw to dig in a little deeper than initially intended.

Blood flowed from the small nick in a slow trail, and Logan growled, retracting his claw even as he leaned down and pressed his mouth over the injury. Remy moaned, writhing – the curve of his waist was one of his erogenous zones, and Logan's sucking mouth was driving him crazy. He had the feeling that he just might come from this alone.

Logan pulled back, much to Remy's disappointment, and licked over the injury, though the blood had already stopped flowing. Dark eyes glared up at Remy, who stared back unrepentantly. Logan had always used those dangerous claws of his for fighting, but never for pleasure. Remy was going to show him that his body could be something more than a weapon, that it could be used as an instrument for pleasure, to love.

"Remy likes a little pain," he murmured. "Though t'at was more like a papercut. Try a little longer next time, oui?" he smiled, not asking Logan to bring his claws back out. He had pushed him a little much this time, but Remy had no doubt that the other man would come around. And he trusted Logan to never cut too deep, or too much. There was a difference between a little spike of pain to increase pleasure, and outright hurting, and he trusted Logan to know the difference. And if he didn't, then Remy would show him.

"You just like to push, don't'cha, Cajun?" Logan growled, but leaned down nonetheless to kiss Remy again, allowing the other man to taste the coppery flavor that still rode Logan's tongue. Remy pulled Logan's tongue into his mouth playfully, and finally brought his hands up to stroke along the other man's chest.

Logan growled, the sound rumbling from his chest into Remy where their mouths connected. Remy shivered, the sound pulling strings the whole way down his body. Reaching out with his right hand, Remy quickly located the lubrication and managed to get some onto his fingers. Still kissing Logan, the action turned messy and wet by now, he reached down and pressed one finger inside his own body, groaning at the sensation.

A second finger quickly joined the first, and Remy worked on preparing himself for his lover. Logan's left hand reached out blindly, grabbing the lube as well and slicking up his fingers. Reaching down, he pulled out Remy's hand by the wrist. When Remy complied, he took his hand, palms facing each other, and forced two fingers back up, pressing his own against them. Then he guided all four fingers to Remy's entrance, slipping them inside with some effort, having to fight a little past Remy's natural resistance.

Remy cried out at the sudden pressure, tearing his mouth from Logan's, the burning sensation making him writhe, though not in pain. The fingers were removed several interminable minutes later, Logan's free hand around Remy's arousal sufficiently distracting them both. Logan's mouth moved to his shoulder and bit down lightly, teeth pressing into the muscles there. At the same time, he slid inside of Remy, and Remy came, crimson eyes darkened to the color of blood with lust and surprise.

His body limp, Remy gradually became more aware of Logan still moving inside of him, the strokes slow and steady. His body was oversensitive, but Logan didn't seem to care, his hands wrapping back around Remy. Almost surprised, Remy realized that he was getting aroused again. "Ah, Logan sure knows how to please a lover, non?" he asked, his voice growing thick with excitement as he stirred back to life.

Logan just smiled down at him. "'Course I do, sweetheart," he drawled. "'Specially when that lover is a gorgeous, feisty, impossible Cajun." He switched his angle, increasing his speed a little as he thrust.

Remy laughed, the sound catching in his throat as stars shot across his vision and turning into a gasping moan. If he had been the type of man to blush, he had no doubt his cheeks would be burning by now. As it was, he found himself touched by Logan's words, unexpectedly flattered by his praise.

Wrapping his legs back around Logan's waist, Remy lifted himself, thrusting back against Logan, the angle rubbing constantly across his prostrate. On Logan's next stroke inwards, Remy locked down, forcing him to struggle to pull out so he could thrust back in. "Yer killin' me, Cajun," Logan gasped, panting, the sweat dripping into his eyes.

Remy just smiled, practically purring as he pulled Logan down to kiss him. His body folded nearly in half, every stroke penetrated as deep as it would go, and it wasn't long before they both slid over the edge, long groans echoing in the room.

Panting, sweat and fluids slowly cooling on their overheated bodies, Remy and Logan came down from their high. Logan's body was laying firmly on top of Remy's, his head cushioned on the taller man's shoulder. Reaching up almost absently, Remy combed his fingers through Logan's sweat-soaked hair. After a few moments, Logan started rumbling in his throat. Remy chuckled lightly; Logan reminded him of a great big housecat, rumbling his pleasure at the constant stroking as Remy pet him.

"Ah'm feelin' all better now, mon amour," Remy murmured. Logan just chuckled tiredly and nodded against his shoulder, his eyes drooping as he snuggled closer. They'd clean up later when they woke back up. A warm shower would likely prove to be lots of fun.

"Me, too, Cajun," Logan mumbled sleepily, his lips pressing against Remy's throat in a soft, wet kiss. "Perhaps the practice mission wasn't such a failure after all." With that, he drifted off, safe within his lover's embrace.


	9. Chapter 9: Don't Want To Miss A Thing

Logan was growing restless again. His body practically sang with tension, and he had thrown himself whole-heartedly into his survival classes. When he wasn't taking the kids camping or hiking, he was working out in the gym, or practicing in the Danger Room. At night, their lovemaking was fast and a little rough, Logan's restless energy evident in every touch.

Not that Remy was complaining or anything. He rather enjoyed this side of Logan, the side that made their lovemaking more passionate and less gentle. Logan never hurt him – even feeling caged, he wouldn't hurt his lover – and Remy didn't mind at all. But Logan hadn't left the Institute, and that's what had everybody confused. Normally, by this point, Logan would have packed up and left, perhaps even taking Remy with him. Instead, he was here, pacing the halls, his eyes dark and brooding.

Wolverine's anxiety was infectious, and Remy found that he was starting to lose sleep, lying awake and watching his lover sleep, watching as he tossed and turned, occasionally growling with whatever dreams invaded his own slumber. They had loved each other again, twice in a row, before Logan had fallen into sleep, completely worn out.

Remy, too, was exhausted, but found that, once again, he could not fall asleep, because there was a part of him deep down inside that was afraid Logan would up and leave before he woke up. And he found that he really, really didn't want to be left behind this time.

And so, he lay there, propped up on one elbow, and stared down at his lover. He only wished he knew what was tying Logan to this place. Surely it couldn't be him, because he would have no problem leaving with Logan for a while – however long it took – until his restlessness had been conquered and he felt up to returning to the Institute.

"What'cha lookin' at, bub?" a quiet voice mumbled, a sleepy growl threading its way through Wolverine's words. Remy blinked, surprised, and met Logan's eyes. The other mutant just stared back up at him sleepily, but he was starting to wake up, which meant that the restlessness would continue soon. Leaning down, Remy kissed him.

Logan growled, this time in pleasure, as he responded to the kiss, opening his mouth so that their tongues could play. Strong hands reached up and tugged on his shoulders, bringing Remy's upper body closer, so that it lay across Logan's body as they continued their leisurely kiss.

When Remy finally pulled back so that he could breathe, his red eyes smiled down at Logan. "Ah, mon amour. What is Remy to do with you?" He shook his head in mock consternation, but a part of him was very serious. Logan answered his in kind, his voice light as he smiled back.

"How 'bout the Cajun makes me too tired to go wanderin' at such an indecent hour?" he suggested, and Remy debated a moment. He was still sore from making love twice tonight, as well as having been penetrated every night for the last two weeks. Logan seemed to know where his thoughts were going, because he chuckled. "Yer thinkin' too much, Cajun," he murmured.

It took a moment to process, and then Remy stared down at Logan in shock. "Wolverine wants Gambit to make love to him?" he cried, surprised. Logan frowned at his reaction and shook his head, shifting as he prepared to leave the bed. As he stood, turning his back to Remy, the crimson-eyed man reached out desperately, grabbing Logan's wrist. "Wait! Wait, mon amour. Please?" he asked, his voice pleading.

Logan paused, then turned back to him, but his expression was guarded, and Remy wanted to cry. He hadn't meant to put Logan on the defensive. He had to fix this, and quickly. They both knew that if Logan walked out that door right now, he'd keep going, and would leave Remy behind.

Still holding Logan's wrist, Remy rose to his knees and pulled himself towards the other man, his muscles rippling under his skin. He knew what he must look like – dangerous, seductive, and enticing. This was a game he had played before, but never with Logan. Always before, it had been Logan who had taken the lead in their relationship.

At the edge of the bed, Remy rose up, tugging sharply on Logan's wrist, so that the man was pulled down to him, where he caught Logan's mouth in a passionate kiss. He nibbled on Logan's lower lip, and when the other man didn't open his mouth, he bit it sharply.

Logan opened his mouth, letting out a muffled groan of surprise. Remy took advantage of the opening, sliding his mouth inside, his hand still gripping tightly to his lover's wrist, the sharp taste of blood lasting only a moment before the small wound healed itself.

Remy's other hand moved up to Logan's shoulder, and together, he used them to pull the other man onto the bed, moving to straddle him at the same time. Breaking from the kiss, he leered down at Wolverine. "Gambit is a lover above all else, mon amour," he murmured, his voice smooth and nearly hypnotic. He watched in pleasure as Wolverine shuddered when his voice rolled over him.

Reaching down, he slipped the edge of his fingers under Logan's nightshirt, just barely brushing against the flesh he found there. Something flickered in Logan's eyes, and Remy smiled. Quickly, he lifted the shirt over Wolverine's head, the other man arching his back to help him. Once it was over his head, Remy twisted the shirt, so that it wound in on itself and pinned his arms together from elbow to wrist.

Logan's eyes narrowed, and his arms flexed, until Remy laid his hands over them. "Non, mon amour. Don't fight. Just let Remy take care of you, oui?" he asked, his voice steady and filled with lust and love. Gently, he swept Logan's bangs off of his forehead, and the other mutant sagged, not fighting the bonds. They both knew that it would only take a small tug, and the shirt would tear like wet paper, but Logan was submitting, for now, at least.

Remy smiled, and rewarded him with a kiss and a firm pressure against his rising erection. Logan groaned with the pleasure, pressing up in Remy's hand, his mouth opening eagerly to the skilled kiss of a man who knew how to seduce.

Remy's other hand caressed Logan's body, starting at the firm shoulders and brushing light as a feather against his collar bone, the sensation leaving goose bumps. Remy kept the touches light, teasing Logan, until the man was growling below him, writhing and arching up, trying to make contact with Remy's body above him.

"Uh uh, mon amour. Dat's not very nice, now. You promised to let Remy take care o' you," Gambit rebuked gently. Logan's eyes, dark with lust and desire, stared up at him uncomprehendingly. "Slow, mon amour. You're so very restless."

For a long moment, silence filled the room. Logan's taut body sang with tension, and Remy remained suspended above him, waiting to see what Logan would do. If he really wanted to finish this, then Remy would oblige him, but he was hoping that perhaps Logan would be willing to try this his way.

Finally, just when Remy was about to give in, Logan's body slumped back to the bed, where he writhed, staring up at the crimson eyes above him, his own dark eyes pleading. Remy smiled brilliantly, and watched Logan's breath hitch, his eyes surprised. Gambit did not share that smile with many people, not even his previous lovers, so it was a gift to be treasured when he smiled like that, open and honest.

Remy resumed his feather-light touches, brushing gently down Logan's chest, curving his hands around Logan's sides and sliding them down his hips. He mapped out each of the man's ribs, tickling over skin and muscle, combing slender fingers through soft hair. Still straddling Logan's thighs, he flicked his fingers over the shorter man's nipples, watching them stiffen under the gentle caresses.

"Wolverine is a very handsome man," Remy murmured, leaning down and running his tongue over Logan's nipple. The man bucked upwards, and Remy had to move his hands to Logan's hips to hold him down. He didn't make the gesture forceful – it was more of a reminder than a restraint, and Logan settled down once more.

"Damn it, Cajun!" he growled, and Remy shivered – his lover's voice had reached that balls-deep growl that he only got right before penetrating his lover, or when he climaxed. That he was already in that mindset boded very well for Remy LeBeau. "Would you just do something already?" he demanded.

Remy smiled down at him slyly. "Ah, but Remy _is_ doin' somethin'," he smiled innocently. "Remy is makin' de Wolverine feel very, very good." That said, he slid one hand straight down to Logan's groin, grasping the man firmly and stroking. Logan arched and growled, and Remy allowed it this time.

When Logan's back had arched completely off the bed, Remy took advantage of the position and rolled Logan onto his side. The other man seemed to know what he wanted, and he kept rolling, until he was on his stomach, his knees tucked underneath his body, so that his face and chest were pressed into the mattress, his back arched in a smooth line as his arms stretched above his head, still bound.

Carefully, Remy slipped the tip of a finger into Logan's body, not worrying about lubrication. This much probably wouldn't bother the other man, and his other hand was busy stroking Logan. Sure enough, Logan growled and pressed back against the intruding digit, forcing it to slide in further.

Remy groaned, and removed his finger, fitting himself snugly to Logan's back. He pressed three fingers against Logan's mouth, and his lover opened his lips willingly, allowing the slender digits inside, where his tongue curled around them happily enough. Remy continued to grip him firmly, moving up and down just enough to keep his lover aroused and eager, but not enough to send him over the edge.

Deciding his fingers were slick enough, Remy removed them and got a disappointed growl in response. Smiling, he slid his wet fingers down Logan's body, leaving a wet trail wherever he touched. Sliding back around Logan's hips, Remy pressed lightly just above the small of his back, and Logan shifted slightly, spreading his legs a little further and allowing his upper body to slide a little further up the bed.

Smiling, Remy dipped his head down and licked a quick swipe across Logan's opening. The man growled and thrust backwards, towards the touch. "Tsk, tsk, mon amour," Remy chided. We can't have none o' dat now, can we?" He slapped Logan's ass sharply, just enough to sting a little, and Logan stilled, growling. Remy relaxed a little more; as long as Wolverine was growling instead of snarling, it was okay.

"Dere, now, mon amour," he crooned. "Remy gonna make us both feel good real soon," he promised, and smiled in delighted satisfaction as Logan shivered under his verbal caress. Returning to where he had been heading, Remy slipped two slick fingers inside of Logan, and this time, his lover managed to hold still, although he groaned his displeasure at not being able to move.

Scissoring his fingers to help loosen the other man, Remy proceeded to distribute kisses up and down his back and hips, following the curve of his spine before licking across the small of his back; leaving small, sharp bites in the skin near Logan's slender hips, or on the globes of his ass. Logan approved wholeheartedly of the attention, the growl deepening to what Remy could have sworn was a purr, although Wolverine would probably gut him if he ever told the other man that he actually _purred_.

Satisfied that Logan was ready for him, and realizing that the other man wasn't going to be patient for much longer, Remy removed his fingers and shifted upwards. Logan's constant growl rose into volume, until he was howling as Remy slid into him in one long motion. Using slow, shallow thrusts, Remy gave Logan time to adjust. When his lover moved back into him, he took that as permission to move faster, and drew himself nearly the whole way out before thrusting back in.

Logan's head bowed back, and he cried out. "Move, damn it!" Remy just chuckled, and kept the same steady pace, his hands on Logan's hips to hold the other man steady. He adjusted his angle slightly, and this time, Logan's howl echoed in the room. Remy wondered idly if their neighbors could hear them, despite the fact that Logan had specifically requested a soundproof room.

"Ah, but lovemaking is meant to be slow, tender, mon amour," Remy murmured throatily, but he nonetheless picked up his pace, obliging Logan's demands. Besides, who was he to refuse such a beautiful, wild creature as the one writhing below him. This untamable beast was all his, and Remy had no intentions of ever letting him go. Wolverine belonged to Gambit, and Gambit belonged to Wolverine. It was as simple as that.

Aware that he was close, Remy pressed one hand down on Logan's back, pressing him down into the bed as he continued thrusting roughly. His other hand reached back around and grabbed Logan's arousal. His lover didn't last beyond that first touch, and the warm liquid spilled onto Remy's hand and the bed.

Purring now himself, Remy lifted his hand and cleaned it thoroughly with his tongue, still moving inside of Logan. Suddenly, the walls around him tightened quite deliberately, and Remy managed to choke out his lover's name before spilling deep inside of him.

Sated, Remy slumped down over Logan's back, and the other man held both their weights for a moment before collapsing to the bed. Tired, Remy ignored the other man shifting to a cleaner area of the bed, but snuggled closer happily enough once warm arms came around him and his head found its way onto the other man's chest.

Hearing the rumbling chuckle, it took Remy's fuzzy mind a moment to realize that Logan had torn the shirt that had been binding him. Huh. He hadn't even heard it ripping. "Ah'm impressed it stayed t'at long, mon amour," he murmured tiredly. Strong, sure fingers carded their way through his hair, and Remy closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of another hand combing through his hair. Now it was his turn to purr.

"Of course. You told me to leave everything to you, didn't you?" Logan grumbled in reply, and this time, it was Remy who laughed. Logan's arms tightened around him, and Remy noticed that the tension that had been plaguing the shorter man was gone now.

Too tired to lift himself up, Remy shifted his head, so that he was staring up at Logan, who was staring up at the ceiling through half-lidded eyes. "Is Logan okay now?" he asked tentatively. Wolverine turned to look down at him, his eyes calm and affectionate.

"Yeah, Cajun. I'm fine now. I needed that, probably more than you realize," he admitted, and Remy frowned. Needed what? The sex? But they had been doing it every night for the past two weeks. Or was it…oh. His thoughts must have been plain to see on his face, because Logan smiled, though it wasn't particularly funny. "Yeah, sometimes I need that control taken away from me. But I can't ask for it, and so I usually just wind up leavin' the Institute for a while, until I run out of energy."

Remy sighed quietly, burrowing against Logan's chest. "Ah, but now Remy knows. I'll watch your back, and you can watch Remy's, okay?" he asked, ready to doze off at any moment.

Logan was quiet for a few moments, so that Remy had nearly drifted off when he asked, "Why have you been watchin' me sleep, Cajun?" Remy just murmured a sleepy questioning noise at him, his mind trying to wake up long enough to process the question. "You've been watchin' me, Cajun, all the time for the last week. Why?"

Remy smiled. "Ah've been watching because Logan's been restless lately. Remy didn't want to miss when he left. Remy didn't want to get left behind this time. Dreamin' o' Logan isn't the same as bein' with Logan. It's because Ah love you," he confessed, and felt Logan stiffen, but he stayed relaxed, just waiting. It was the first time he had said the words properly. _I love you_.

A few moments later, Logan relaxed, and his arm started rubbing up and down Remy's back, the touch soothing and reassuring. "Yeah, Cajun. Me, too," he muttered finally. "And I'm not goin' anywhere. Not without you," he added. Remy smiled delightedly, knowing that Wolverine never broke his word unless it wasn't by choice, and curled into the man's touch. They drifted off like that, content, sated, and certain of their place with each other.


	10. Chapter 10: Pool

"That was a poor shot, Cajun." The amused drawl creeped it way down Remy's spine, and he glared up at his opponent. Logan just stared back at him, at ease and completely unconcerned by Remy's annoyance. Remy just huffed in disgust and backed away from the pool table, crimson eyes trained on Logan.

Stepping up to the table, Wolverine eyed the remaining balls, mentally lining up his next shot. A moment later, he rolled his shoulders before stretching across the pool table, the cue stick held easily in his hands as he lay poised over the green felt. Remy grinned as he realized that Logan was now within easy reach.

As Logan pulled the cue stick back, Remy took a step towards him. The other man ignored his presence, at least until Remy murmured, "Winner takes all, mon amour," in his most seductive purr. The shot went wide, tapping the side of the ball and sending it straight into the eight-ball, which fell into the closest pocket.

Now it was Logan who glared up at his opponent, a small growl trickling from his throat, even as his body stirred at the promise in Remy's words. "That wasn't very nice, Cajun," he chastised, but Remy just smiled back at him innocently, completely unaffected by the knowledge that he had just deliberately caused Logan to miss that last shot, costing him the game. After all, it wasn't his fault that his words had made Logan's hand slip, right?

His smaller body tense and his eyes eager and bright, Logan stalked towards Remy. Crimson eyes widened as Remy moved backwards, away from the pool table. Wolverine pursued, dogging his footsteps. The back of one of the leather couches pressed against the back of Remy's legs, and Gambit stilled, waiting to see what would happen. He trusted Logan not to hurt him, and judging by his appearance, this was going to be enjoyable. Still, something was wrong here.

"Ah, wasn't it winner take all?" he breathed, his voice deepening with excitement and anticipation. "Dis is sort of…backwards," he pointed out, but Logan wasn't listening. Stopping right in front of Remy, so that he had to tilt his head back to stare up at the taller man, Logan grinned wickedly.

"Yeah, that's what it was. But you never specified _when_, exactly, payment was to begin," he countered. Before Remy could snap back with a witty retort, Logan's strong hands wrapped around his wrists, turning him inexorably, so that he was facing the couch. Those warm hands slid up his arms to his shoulders and pressed lightly, Logan's intentions abundantly clear.

Remy allowed himself to be pushed down onto the floor and pressed forward, so that his arms sunk into the couch of the cushions as he held himself up. A strong grip moved from his shoulders to the back of his neck, brushing along his exposed skin in the process. Remy shuddered under the caress, unconsciously pressing back into the firm touch.

With a sudden tearing that jolted Remy's body, the shirt was split down the middle. Damn, that made the third one this month, he thought ruefully. It was a good thing that he loved clothes shopping. After all, a good looking man such as himself must have an equally attractive wardrobe.

Warm hands pressed into his shoulder blades, kneading. They slowly worked their way inwards, until they met at his spine. Moving up a little, they pressed into the knotted cords at the back of his neck, and Remy allowed his body to sag as tense, sore muscles were massaged into relaxation.

Slowly, those pressing fingers moved insistently down his back, kneading the whole way down his spine and curving outwards, so that they dug sharply into his sides along his ribcage, not hurting, but instead feeling very, very good. His eyes drifted close as he felt his body relax, the loosened muscles bringing him relief. Remy hadn't realized just how tense he had been until that moment.

Logan hesitated only for a moment at the waistband of his pants, before sliding his hands around to his front and renewing the massage, pressing his own body snugly to Remy's back. Questing fingers sought out erogenous zones, stroking and kneading as he went. With the hands on his front, Remy allowed his body to be pulled backwards, so that his head tilted back onto Logan's shoulders as the other man finished soothing the muscles on his upper body.

Gripping his chin gently, Logan turned Remy's head, angling it enough to kiss the other man, his tongue coming out to play as it wriggled around in Remy's mouth, the kiss moist and sloppy and utterly hot. Remy responded eagerly, his right hand coming up to curve around the back of Logan's head as they kissed long and deep.

Remy broke from the kiss with a gasp when a hand found its past the waistband of his jeans, having already unbuckled the belt that he had been wearing. His body was pressed forward again as Logan shifted, his other hand unzipping Remy's jeans before sliding down to grasp his arousal. Remy twitched at the stimulation, growing even harder as Logan stroked him, his grip firm and steady as he slid up and down Remy's erection.

"Heh. You're gonna be beggin' soon, Cajun," Logan growled behind him, and Remy just moaned in response. The other man was probably right, but he didn't care right now. Just so long as those sensations didn't stop. Ever.

Logan's free hand was tugging on Remy's jeans, and the other man shifted away from the couch long enough for his lover to slide them down past his thighs. Remy relaxed, preparing to accept Logan's finger. Instead, he bucked backwards as something soft and wet lapped at him. Whipping his head around, he stared wide-eyed down at Logan, who looked back up at him, his eyes filled with lust and laughter.

Logan pulled back just long enough to ask, "What? Didn't think I'd do it, Cajun?" Remy just shook his head, words escaping him as Logan went back to his previous occupation. A wanton moan escaped him, and Remy lifted a shaky hand to his mouth, muffling his voice as Wolverine continued to rim him, his tongue sliding inside now and again, and making Remy writhe.

A chuckle reverberated against his flesh, and Logan slipped a finger inside of him, crooking it carefully as he sought that special spot that would reduce Remy to a mindless mass of feeling. Remy's body shuddered and he gave a muffled scream a moment later as Logan hit what he'd been seeking. He rubbed more deliberately this time, pressing against the Remy's prostrate.

Logan's rasping tongue was still swiping across his skin, lapping up the sweat that covered his body in a thin sheen. Not able to take the infernal teasing anymore, and aware that someone could walk into the recreation room at any moment, Remy snapped, "Quit teasin' Remy and just do it already, Carcajou!"

Wolverine chuckled at the annoyed use of his name and removed his fingers. "As you wish," he murmured, before thrusting into his lover roughly, setting up a quick rocking motion before Remy had time to adjust to the sudden intrusion. Not that the crimson-eyed mutant was complaining. He had been sufficiently prepared that the slight burn of Logan's initial thrust was barely felt, quickly overwhelmed by pleasure.

Remy writhed, his hands scrabbling for purchase against the leather couch. Logan's large hand wrapped back around his arousal, squeezing tightly and cutting off Remy's orgasm. "What the hell was dat for?" Gambit yelped, his voice strangled as he rode the pleasure.

Behind him, Logan muttered, "You wanna come on the leather furniture, Cajun? 'Cause I sure as hell don't wanna have to explain to the professor." Remy saw the logic in that – sort of – but that didn't mean he was happy. Pressing back into Logan's thrusts, Remy let out a savage snarl, his body tightening around Logan. If he wasn't going to find release until after Logan did, then he was going to make sure that his lover came quickly.

Logan grunted, pressing a hand firmly against the back of his neck, holding him against the couch, so that he couldn't push back against him. His other hand continued to restrain Remy, and the taller man was nearly delirious with the added stimulation. Wolverine had better hurry it up and finish, before he used that energy that was bound inside of him to charge the account.

Logan was losing his pace, falling quickly out of rhythm, and Remy encouraged him, moaning and writhing as much as he was able, tightening his body around Logan every time the other man thrust inside of him. A moment later, Logan fell over the edge, muffling his howl by biting into Remy's shoulder. The brief pain only added to Remy's pleasure and he shuddered, fighting Logan's grip.

"What do you want me to do, Cajun?" Logan asked, squeezing Gambit's arousal for emphasis. His breathing was ragged in Remy's ear as he spoke, slowly recovering from his own ecstasy.

It took several moments for Remy to pull his scattered thoughts into some semblance of order, and then another moment to respond. "Ah don't care. Just do something to fix this!" he replied, gesturing towards his arousal. Lifting him up and flipping him onto his back, Logan laid him against the couch and settled in between his open legs. Leaning down, he kissed Remy, and the other man responded to the kiss eagerly, wrapping his arms around Logan's neck.

When the kiss broke off, Logan smiled down at him and started trailing kisses across his cheeks and chin, then down his throat. He stopped for a moment at the dip in his collarbone, sucking on the tender flesh there, his hands roaming Remy's chest, stopping to tease a nipple as it went by. Shortly thereafter, a mouth latched itself to his right nipple, and suddenly, Remy knew exactly what he wanted.

Fisting his fingers into Wolverine's hair, watching those brown eyes move to stare up at him, he grinned breathlessly. He was pretty sure that they wanted the same thing, and there was only one sure way to find out. "Use your mouth on Remy, oui?" he asked, his hands pressing down lightly, making it clear what he wanted.

"Heh. I thought you'd never ask," Logan replied, smirking, and then did as he was bid, his arms stroking across Remy's chest and down his legs as his mouth kissed and sucked on Remy's inner thighs. His tongue pressed up against Remy's balls before sucking one of them into his mouth, rolling his tongue around them. Gambit nearly bucked off the couch, only fear of Logan's teeth keeping him mostly still. One of Logan's hands played with his other one, and then Logan traded off.

A finger stroked up his erection, and that was the only warning Gambit had before he was taken into Logan's mouth, to the hilt, Logan's nose buried in his pubic hair. This time, he did buck, and Logan allowed the movement, relaxing his throat and letting Remy thrust in as far as he could, careful to keep his teeth out of the way. His tongue pressed up against the underside of Remy's arousal, and when Remy hit the back of his throat, he swallowed, compressing his muscles around the cock in his throat.

Remy had been on edge before, so he lost it in moments, releasing down Logan's throat. His lover swallowed as he pulled back, the pressure almost painful on Remy over sensitized skin. Logan's tongue slipped out and lapped up what he had missed, and Remy moaned faintly, his body limp and sated, his breathing rough and irregular as he panted, hot and sticky and utterly satisfied.

Shifting his body again, Logan rearranged them on the couch, pulling a lightweight blanket that had been resting on the back of the couch over top of their intertwined bodies. He cuddled Remy, and Gambit sighed in contentment, sleepy now. "Go ahead and rest, Cajun," Logan murmured, one hand petting through his short hair. "I'll warn ya if anybody gets close."

Remy nodded against Logan's chest, his body situated so that his head was tucked under Logan's chin. He had forgotten about Wolverine's keen senses. He'd know of anybody approaching long before they actually made it into the room. It would be a scramble to get at least their pants on, but right now, Remy didn't care. He just wanted to bask in the afterglow of their love-making.

Just as he drifted off to sleep, he felt Logan kiss the top of his head, and heard him murmur, "Hope you enjoyed your winner's prize." It took a moment to sink in, but when it did, Remy's body froze, his eyes staring up at Logan in disbelief. The roguish man just grinned down at him. "You won the pool game, remember? So I had to do what you ordered me to. That was the agreement, was it not?"

Remy growled, but then shook his head, a smile playing about his lips. "Oui, dat was the agreement. And since Ah made sure Logan lost the game, dis was only fair play, Ah suppose." Logan chuckled, and Remy smiled wider. Taking his chances at throwing Wolverine off-balance had definitely paid off.

"Sleep now, Cajun. Perhaps we'll have a rematch someday," Logan murmured, and Remy nodded sleepily. A rematch sounded good, he thought vaguely as he drifted off. His last thought before sleep took him was that he'd never look at a pool table the same way again.


End file.
